Harry Potter and a Mother's Gift - Year 1
by Fixe
Summary: This is a version which will follow cannon closely at the start and separate further as the years at Hogwarts progress. It is an alternate reality on two main fronts. First, is Harry's realization in chapter one about magic. Second, is what Lily Potter did to ensure the survival of her son. It features a strong parental relationship between Harry Potter and Severus Snape.
1. Chapter 1 A Realization

Chapter 1

A Realization

Harry was biting back tears again. The small five year old boy, with messy black hair and thin wire glasses was sick and tired of being blamed, beat up, and picked on! He had done nothing, and here he was locked in his cupboard under the stairs again; all because they were mad at him! He was the one being picked on! It was Dudley, their son, doing the hitting. He was fuming; he was mad; he was now crying.

He was Harry James Potter, the nephew of Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive. He had come to live with them when he was about fourteen months old. He knew only that his birth parents had died in a car accident, and that his mother was his aunt's sister. He was not allowed to ask questions about them, or pretty much anything. He had a cousin about his age, Dudley, his bully. In his parent's eyes, Dudley could do no wrong. In Harry's eyes, just about all he did was wrong.

The Dursley's prided themselves on being perfectly normal. Vernon Dursley was a large round man with no neck and a large mustache. Mrs. Petunia Dursley was tall and thin with a very long neck and blond hair. They detested anything out of the ordinary. Harry was the greatest problem in their lives. It didn't seem to matter how hard Harry tried, he always seemed to disappoint them. He never seemed able to measure up. They never looked at him like they looked at Dudley; they never treated him like they treated Dudley; they didn't love him like they loved Dudley and Harry knew it.

It isn't seem to matter what Harry did, strange things would happen and Harry would get in trouble. In his own five year old way Harry was trying to figure out why the Dursleys continued to think it was his fault these things kept happening. They kept saying it was his fault, and he needed to stop. But, he didn't think he was causing any of these strange occurrences to happen. They obviously thought he was, were they right? Something inside Harry clicked, what if they were right? What if he was doing these things. They seemed certain it was him. What if they knew something he didn't! Could he control these things? If he could, maybe he could make the things happen the way he wanted. This thought had never occurred to him in all the time he could remember. He always believed it was not his fault, but things were happening more frequently, stranger things. These instances were harder to get out of and explain, even to himself. He now couldn't hide the fact that maybe the Dursleys were right. Maybe he was causing these things, maybe there was something different about him. He didn't think it was wrong, but maybe it was different.

Harry tried to look at the events from this new point of view. Strange occurrences generally happened when he was in trouble. That trouble was usually caused by his cousin Dudley and his group of friends, the Gang. They generally hunted and picked on Harry ruthlessly. Harry had become very adept at getting away from them and, for the most part, he was able to avoid them. He would hide, or be in a situation where he was around other adults. Thus, it was not in their best interest to pick on him. However, every now and then, they would be very alone, get Harry cornered, and that is generally when things turned weird. It was times like this that Harry became scared. Maybe that was it, Harry reasoned. When his emotions were high, things happened. Every time he tried to explain it, all he could come up with to say was, "it was like magic." This always sent his aunt and uncle into a rage. He remembered looking over to Dudley for support on that statement once and seeing a smirk on his face. Magic...could he do magic? Was magic...real? Every time he said that word he ended up in his cupboard. It made no sense to him unless….unless he could. They knew it, and they didn't want him to know it! And they certainly did not want him doing magic. But, magic was fake...right? Maybe there were some magicians who used tricks, but what if there was a kind of magic that was real?

Harry's head hurt. Dudley had pushed him down yesterday, and he'd hit is head. He reached up and felt the goose egg which was still tender. Tomorrow was his first day of school, and he was excited to get away from the house! He and Dudley were starting school together. Aunt Petunia had them in separate classes. He had listened in horror as Aunt Petunia told the school people that he was slow, and behind, and was not to be in the same class as Dudley. He was curious as to how all of this was going to work out. Tomorrow would tell. He was grounded to his cupboard for now. Apparently his hair had a mind if its own. Aunt Petunia had tried to cut it for school, messed it up beyond all belief, and then had the nerve to get mad at him this morning when it was back to normal! It had been a brutal tongue lashing, but at least he was not going to school with a half shaved head tomorrow. He closed his eyes and let sleep take him. He had not even tried to make his hair grow. It had just happened, like magic! He smiled as he fell asleep.

As it turned out, it didn't take long for the people at school to figure out Dudley was the problem and not Harry. It also didn't take them long to figure out telling Petunia this was not a solution. They also learned not to talk to Aunt Petunia about Harry, nor to praise him in a way Petunia or Dudley could find out. They took pity on Harry, but they could not save him from his situation. Harry, as it turned out, loved school. He quickly learned to keep a low profile and stay close to the adults to protect himself from Dudley's ruthlessness. But, other than this, he enjoyed being in the company of people who did not treat him as trash. The other kids had to keep a safe distance, or deal with Dudley, but that didn't seem to bother Harry too much. He wished he had some friends, but he didn't know what to tell them about his home life. He wasn't allowed to play with them outside of school either. Plus, his Aunt Petunia was always saying horrible things about him to anyone and everyone. He was sure the kids had been told by their own parents to stay away from him. Harry accepted it as his situation and dealt with it as best he could, he didn't want to get anyone else in trouble.

Harry was often found daydreaming. In his mind he was free to think whatever he wanted, be whatever he wanted, say whatever he wanted. There were no rules, and he was able to win. The life and the fun he had in his mind was his escape from his sad reality. In his mind's eye, he could play with friends the way he wanted and be whatever he imagined. He was laying under the bushes near the back fence of his garden doing such a thing. It was safe here, no one could see him. As long as he was back in the house in time to help with dinner he was fine.

Harry sighed, today had been a rough day for him as he left his daydreaming aside and came back to reality. He had done well on his exit exams from year one in school, too well. He'd done better than Dudley, and he knew there would be consequences for that. Even though he purposely missed as many as he thought he could get wrong without his teacher catching on. He looked at the paper with his grades and felt the dread in his stomach. He closed his eyes, focused and pleaded with the paper to change. He was sure he would be beaten and locked in the cupboard for a least a week if his aunt and uncle saw this paper, and it needed their signature! He could deal with Dudley's beatings, but Uncle Vernon was a different story. He was near tears with his internal pleadings. He nearly cried out when he opened his eyes again. The paper had changed! Just as he wanted! The grades were just slightly lower than Dudleys! Passing, but not good. That was the best thing to happen to Harry in weeks! Plus it was the biggest magic he had managed thus far. He sighed in relief and went inside.

Harry placed his school papers in Aunt Petunia's designated location and set about preparing dinner with a hidden happiness in his heart. He maintained his well practiced expressionless face as their normal evening routine proceeded.

"Our little Dudley's grades came into day," Aunt Petunia beamed!

"Top of his class I suppose," chimed Uncle Vernon.

"Yes, of course," Aunt Petunia lied. "Better than him," she motioned to Harry, "for sure, look for yourself."

Aunt Petunia handed him two pieces of paper. Vernon studied one and then the other. He made huffing sounds now and and then, but didn't say anything as he studied the papers. Harry looked at Dudley, he seemed a little nervous and gave Harry a look which said Harry would be in big trouble if things didn't do well for Dudley. Harry waited, getting more and more nervous. Harry was worried on two fronts. First, he was waiting to see how Uncle Vernon would react to the grades. Secondly, he was trying to calm himself. What good would it do him to succeed in changing his grades, if he messed up by doing some odd magic he didn't mean to do because he was nervous. It is a self made trap he thought to himself.

"Well, it is as we expected Petunia. After all we can only do so much," Vernon said looking at Harry. "Our boy is going to go places with grades like this!"

"Yes, our sweet Dudlykins," Petunia gushed.

Harry's stomach relaxed and he kept his head down as he cleared the dishes from the table and started the dishes. Dudley soaked up all the praise from his parents and sent gloating looks in Harry's direction every now and then. Inwardly Harry could not have asked for a better outcome. He went to his cupboard after finishing his chores, laid on his cot and stared at the underside of the stairs while his mind wondered.

How had he managed to change the grades? How could he make his toys move? Sometimes he could even get more than one toy to move a time. They were Dudley's old broken toys or little prizes from school Dudley had not taken from him yet. He had put quite a bit of time and effort this year in just being able to do these simple little things. He always made sure no one was around and that no one would know. He was determined to master this magic so it could help him, not get him into any more trouble. He was going to figure it out the best he could, no matter what. He worked on it every night after he was the Dursleys were asleep. Often times he fell asleep exhausted from trying so hard.

As they years wore on Harry's control continued to improve, but so did the Dursley's watchful eye. Dudley became a bigger bully, and an even bigger kid. He was easily three times Harry's weight. Harry was fast and great at hiding, but there were times he was caught. Harry looked like a kid no one cared about, which was close to the truth. In clothes many sizes too big for him, and given enough food for a kid half his age, Harry was small, thin and shy. He was good at sneaking food from school and keeping it in his cupboard for when they tried to starve him. By third year he mastered turning objects invisible, no one was taking his food again! Magic had become a survival method for him, but he still could not keep it under control when he became really scared. Thus, at least once every month or two, he ended up locked in his cupboard, which he only really minded when it was hot. He had also become the personal slave for his aunt and uncle. He did their cooking, cleaning, yard work and anything else they could think of to make him work. In truth, he really came to look forward to the work. It was a means of protection. If he was working, then he was safe from Dudley. He learned to tune out the insults and escape into the worlds he created in his imagination. By shear force of will he learned to use his magic to make up for what he was asked to do and physically could not. It was physically impossible for an undernourished young boy to accomplish all that was given him, yet somehow, he managed. If the Dursleys had any idea they were in fact forcing Harry to use his magic to accomplish all they gave him, they would be appalled. Harry went to bed every night and forced himself to practice his magic until he fell asleep from exhaustion some hours later.

In his fifth year of grade school (4th grade in the US) he was with his class visiting the local zoo. He was having a very contained good time. Dudley was of course there. So, he was keeping his standard low profile and trying to stay close to adults. They went into the insect and reptile house and started looking around. Harry was enjoying looking at all the different animals when they went to the snake room. Harry had too look down because his eyes became huge with a realization. He could understand the snakes! In his amazement he failed to keep up with the parent he was trying to stick close to and found himself alone. His next logical thought was...could they understand me like I can understand them? Cautiously he walked up to a large tank with a huge boa constrictor in it. The snake appeared to be asleep and Harry was able to be across the glass from his head. He looked around to make sure he was alone. Then he closed his eyes and focused as he had become accustomed to doing when he wanted to use his magic. Listening to all the hiss talking around him, he opened his eyes, looked at the snake, and whispered.

 _*Can you understand me snake?_ *

Silence...well at least all the snakes stopped hiss talking. Harry swallowed. He could only think of one reason all the snakes would stop talking. He looked at the huge snake in front of him. The snakes eyes were now open and looking right at Harry.

* _Yesss,*_ the snake replied...somewhat hesitantly.

 _*Um...how come you can understand me?*_ Harry asked.

 _*Becaussse you are ssspeaking in sssnake language. I have never heard one of your kind ssspeak it before.*_

The snake had now lifted its head and was looking at Harry.

When the snake moved other kids became interested and came over, and Harry dared not speak more. He was still in utter disbelief about what had just happened. He stepped back and looked at the other snakes, and then there was an explosion of snake voices, all talking over each other to the extent that Harry was not able to understand much. He was able to pick up an overall theme. They wanted out and they wanted to be able to be free, some were hungry too. Harry was starting to get nervous. Then he felt the all too familiar feeling in the pit of his stomach. He knew something was about to happen and the fear crept up his spine. He quickly found the volunteer parent he had been hanging around earlier when he heard a child scream. Everyone looked over to see the enormous boa constrictor leaving its enclosure. The glass was simply gone! Harry grabbed hold of the woman's hand and ran out with all of the other children. What had he done! He had not meant to do that, why did things like that have to happen! There was no way this was not going to get back to his aunt and uncle. Harry was rounded up with the rest of his class. They went to another part of the zoo, but Harry's heart was no longer in it. He stayed close to the parent volunteers for the rest of the day. On their way out they passed the snake house. It was closed. He hoped that the snake was able to be caught without any problems.

Harry was right, it didn't take long for his aunt and uncle to lay into him that evening. He looked at his shoes and said as little as he could get away with. Finally, it was determined he would spend a week in his cupboard and spend all day Saturday and Sunday cleaning Mrs. Figg's backyard garden...for free. Harry silently went to his "room," arguing would be pointless. He'd learned that years ago. He changed his uncomfortable cot into his cozy bed, something he had been improving on for years now. He could cancel it in an instant, and it made sleeping possible. He decided knowing he could speak to snakes was worth a few days labor, and a week of not having to deal with Dudley, his aunt, and uncle.

A few days later he was working away in his neighbor's backyard. He'd tried talking to other animals, but it had not been successful. It appears that snakes were the only ones with whom he could talk. He had scared away a few grass snakes in Mrs. Figgs yard before he was able to pick one up and actually get it to say something in response. He thought about keeping one for a pet, but the mental image of his aunt finding a snake in her house put the idea out of his head in a hurry. He had no idea what benefit this would have in his life, but it was cool. Mrs. Figg gave him plenty of water to drink and stale sandwiches to eat, but it was more than he would have gotten from his aunt, so he welcomed it. After two days, the yard looked presentable and Harry was rather pleased with himself. He was also exhausted. He had used quite a bit of magic to accomplish the task. There was no way a grown man could have done this in two days, let alone a scrawny ten year old boy. However, not finishing would have only caused more problems with his aunt. Hopefully both is aunt and Mrs. Figg would be unaware of what it would have actually taken to do the work. His aunt was clueless at home anyway. Mrs. Figg slipped him a five pound note. Harry thanked her and hid it in his sock and went home. He watched her talking to his aunt on the phone saying he did all she asked of him, and then, as she hung up, Harry walked out of the house. With his hands in his pockets and his head down he walked down the street and across to his home.

As he walked he felt the paper in his sock. He had never had so much money in his life! He had a collection of coins hidden in his cupboard. He kept them in a little box that was invisible. In total it was less than two pounds, and it had taken his entire life to collect it! Most of it was coins he had found here and there and put away. If anyone in his family found out he had a coin they would take it. So he learned to hide it. Once his aunt had found his stash, just a few coins, and accused him of stealing from them. That was when he started to figure out how to turn things invisible. This would soon join the other money, nice and invisible.

His aunt would take it upon herself to go through is things every once in awhile just to find something to yell at him about. He quickly learned to become selective with the things he kept in his cupboard. This had left him with the dilemma of finding a place to hide things he did not want to fall into the hands of 'family.' The answer came to him by accident. He had been running away from Dudley and his friends. He was scared and worried because it was a situation where he generally would be caught and beat up. He was cornered and he wished he was on the roof, then he was! He laid down waited for Dudley and his gang to leave he watched them until they were gone. Knowing he had done it once, he kept trying until he did it again. He barely made it home in time to start dinner. His cousin gave him the stink eye all night, but Harry played dumb and thought. This was a skill he could use. He had often wanted to get his hands on the things in the attic, but that was forbidden. If there was something in this house about his parents, he was sure it was up there. Asking about his parents was asking to be yelled at or beat, but if he could get up there without them knowing, maybe he could find something on his own.

He waited until he was sure everyone was asleep. He had seen up in the attic once while getting down holiday decorations. So he imagined the spot at the top of the stairs and focused. He closed his eyes and wished he was there. When he opened his eyes, he was there! Sitting in the dark and not sure where to go from this point. He took a small flashlight from his pocket clicked it on and looked around. It took one squeaky board for him to wish for silence, panic made his magic easier to use. Once he was sure no one had heard him, he went to the furthest corner from the entrance, to the side that was over Dudley's spare bedroom. There he built himself a hideaway surrounded on all side by boxes. He could move two to get in and out, but would always replace them before leaving. He also used the oldest boxes that had not been opened in years and would likely never be disturbed. Now, he would just come here and not worry about the rest of the attic. In his attic room is where he kept the things dearest to him. Mostly kind notes, good grades, and little toys he had acquired at school. If his 'family' were to see these things, they would have a fit. So he kept them hidden. Slowly, night by night he went through all of the things in the attic. He was looking for anything that would tell him something about his parents, about his life before he became a slave at number four Privet Drive. After about a month, he happened upon a box from Aunt Petunia's school days. At first it was nothing interesting. Then he found a shoe box inside. He opened it to find a bunch of letters. He opened the first one.

 _Dear Petunia,_

 _I wish you could see this school, it is amazing! Never in my wildest dreams could have imagined it would have been like this. I am in house called Gryffindor. It is all the kids that I go to class with. There are four houses here at the school. You want to know something amazing. I know someone here. I couldn't believe it at first, but Severus Snape is here too! It is so great to have a friend here that I already know. He seemed pleased to know there was someone here he knew, too! It's almost time for bed, so I have to go. I will write again soon._

 _Love your sister,_

 _Lily_

Harry froze, it was his mother. His mother had written these words. Unbidden tears flowed freely over his face. He had found something. As time passed Harry cherished each letter his mother had written to her little sister. The school she was at sounded every different than any school Harry had ever heard off. It was like his mom was talking about something, but not able to go into too much detail. At first the letter were frequent, then they would slow down. Then a new school year would start and the letter would be more frequent again. It would seem from the letters that Petunia was a bit upset she was not able to attend the same school as her sister. Lily seemed to try and not make it seem like something Petunia was missing out on, but Harry could feel the distance between the two sisters growing over time. Harry searched the rest of the attic, but found nothing other than these letters and a few pictures of the Evans family. He had been told that his grandparents had died in car accident before he was even born and an article clipped from a newspaper seemed to confirm this. However, there was nothing about the car accident which had killed his parents and landed him here. This little hidden area of the attic became his favorite place in the world. Here he was not told what nor how to be, here he was safe. He reread the letters at least once a month. There were the only clue to his past.

It was the first day of summer after his fourth year of school and Harry tried to stay busy and out of the way. Since his help at Mrs. Figg's house worked out so well for her, she asked Aunt Petunia if Harry could maintain her lawn for her this summer. When she offered a small amount of money Aunt Petunia jumped on it. She said it was about time he started earning his keep. Yeah, he was their slave. He didn't say anything. He was happy to have another place to be other than 'home.'


	2. Chapter 2 The Letter

Chapter 2

The Letter

The summer was not even half over when it happened. He collected the mail as it was pushed through the door one evening, and there was an odd envelope addressed to him. Instantly he knew this was not good. Harry used his now well developed disguise skills to make the odd letter appear as junk mail.

"Give it here boy," his aunt said.

She went through it and handed him the trash to throw in the rubbish bin. He did so and made sure he put the junk mail behind the liner so it would be safe. The minutes seemed hours that night until finally, everyone else was asleep. Harry silently retrieved his letter from the bin and went back to his cupboard. Once inside he jumped to his attic room and removed the disguise on the letter. It was written on thick paper and sealed with a real wax seal. It was addressed:

Mr. H. Potter

The Cupboard under the stairs

4 Privet Drive

Little Whinging

Surrey

Well, that was certainly him, so he broke the wax seal with a large H on it and pulled out a few folded sheets of paper like he had never seen before. He read:

 _HOGWARTS SCHOOL_

 _of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY_

 _Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore_

 _(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grad Sorc., Chf. Warlock,_

 _Supreme Mugwump. International Confed. Of Wizards)_

 _Dear Mr. Potter,_

 _We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

 _Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31._

 _Yours sincerely,_

 _Minerva McGonagall_

 _Deputy Headmistress_

Well it was still about a week before that deadline, he at least had that going for him. Now, he needed to figure out how to get a letter to this...Minerva McGonagall. He looked at the the other paper in the envelope. It was a rather odd list of things he would need for this school. Things that talked about magic. Harry smiled, smiled rather large. He as sure this was the school his mother had gone to as well. He was also sure he wanted to go, but was not sure how to accomplish such a task given...his current situation. He needed more information. Harry pulled out a sheet of paper from an old school book and a pencil. Trying to remember the best he could from school about how to write a formal letter, he made sure to use his best penmanship.

 _July 22, 1991_

 _Dear Deputy Headmistress Minerva McGonagall,_

 _I am am writing to accept my place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry._

Harry paused as he thought about how best to explain the situation he was in without sounding as desperate as he felt.

 _As you are probably aware, I have been living with my aunt and uncle since I was a baby. They are not at pleased I can do magic and are not willing to help me attend this school in any way._

There, that was the truth without sounding at all like they were unaware of receiving the letter.

 _I do not know how to obtain the materials listed, nor how to arrive on the stated date. Is there anyway I could obtain more detailed information?_

That sounded very adult and to the point to Harry. He reread the letter, and felt it needed something a bit more personal.

 _I have read some of the letters my mother, Lily, sent to her sister from her time at Hogwarts. It sounds like a wonderful place, and I look forward to seeing it for myself._

Yes, that is what it needed. Oh, one more thing.

 _Also, I have no owl, and will be sending this standard post to the address my mom sent her letters from. If I have not heard from you in a few days...then I will assume you did not get my letter and try something else._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Harry Potter_

Harry was not sure what the owl was for, but felt it had something to do with mail. The letter his mother had written had a return address in a city called Hogsmeade in Scotland. From the letters Harry was guessing this was the city the school was in, so he was going to use that address and see what happened. He was hoping for the best here. He found an envelope and addressed the envelope the way they had practiced in school. He had actually never sent a letter before and he was hoping he had done it right. Then he dug in his coin jar for the needed change. He jumped back to his cupboard and turned the letter the money invisible and tried to sleep.

The next morning as soon as he was done with his chores. He left and made for the closet post office he knew off. When he got to the window he presented the envelope and the coins, no longer invisible. With no fanfare nor questions the letter was posted and Harry walked to Mrs. Figg's to start on her lawn.

It was the 24th of july when Minerva picked up the small odd envelope. She looked at the name and opened it immediately and read:

 _July 22, 1991_

 _Dear Deputy Headmistress Minerva McGonagall,_

 _I am writing to accept my place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry._

 _As you are probably aware, I have been living with my aunt and uncle since I was a baby. They are not at pleased I can do magic and are not willing to help me attend this school in any way._

 _I do not know how to obtain the materials listed, nor how to arrive on the stated date. Is there anyway I could obtain more detailed information?_

 _I have read some of the letters my mother, Lily, sent to her sister from her time at Hogwarts. It sounds like a wonderful place and I look forward to seeing it for myself._

 _Also, I have no owl, and will be sending this standard post to the address my mom sent her letters from. If I have not heard from you in a few days...then I will assume you did not get my letter and try something else._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Harry Potter_

Minerva read the letter a second time. Folded it, stood up, and walked for the headmaster's office. She remembered those people, she had told Albus they were the worst sort of muggles, and this did not sound good at all.

"Lemon Drops," she muttered, as the statues jumped aside, as she refused to slow down for them.

She knocked soundly on the door at the top of the stairs.

"Enter Minerva," the voice on the other side of the door stated as the door opened.

"I received this letter this morning. I thought you would find it interesting," she said placing the letter on his desk with a little more force than was necessary. "Good morning, Severus," she said as an afterthought.

Severus raised an eyebrow. "That's muggle paper. Who is the letter from Minerva, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Harry Potter!" she snapped. "I told you they were the worst sort of muggles." She said to the headmaster as he looked up from the letter.

"May I headmaster," Severus asked. Albus passed him the letter as the headmaster sat back and and looked off into the distance to think.

Severus read the letter. He read it again, and again. Lily's son, this was Lily's son. Feelings he had not felt for sometime came flooding back. Some were pleasant, some were not. Apparently Albus was taking too long to come up with a response for Minerva.

"So what shall we do Albus?" She insisted.

"We shall respond," Albus said simply. "I am just not sure the best way," he said frankly.

"Headmaster," Severus said flatly. "I grew up near this aunt of his for most of my childhood. In her later school years, she became a bitter and angry person. The man she was dating was just as bad. It seems they have not changed their ways." He simply folded the letter and placed the paper back on the desk.

Albus looked at Severus. In the many years he had lived and worked at Hogwarts he had never brought up his muggle upbringing. It was not something which had been easy for him when he was in school. He knew of the friendship which had once existed between Lily and him, and he had a thought.

"Perhaps then, Severus, since you know Harry's aunt, you could go and address the situation."

Severus' eyes grew a bit larger. He searched for the right words.

"I have not spoken to her in more than a dozen years! I have never meet the boy. I don't know what to do, nor how to do it," he stammered.

Albus sighed, "I think anyone we send is going to be in near the same situation. You have my permission to do whatever you feel is necessary to get Harry ready for school, and to the station on the first of September. I will give you a letter of authority and the key to his vault so that you may purchase his things."

"But sir," Severus tried.

"Who would you have me send, Hagrid?"

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose. "Very well," he conceded. Sometimes he hated the influence this man had over his life. He did not want to do this, but is was just as likely no one else wanted to either. The only possible exception was Hagrid, and the idea of a half-giant showing up in Surrey was laughable.

Severus was dressed in standard muggle clothing, not the crazy stuff some wizards would dress in. At least he knew how to appear as muggle. He was currently watching Harry's house trying to determine the best method of approach. He watch a fat man with a too large mustache come out, get in a car, and drive off. A few minutes later a rather chubby boy, looking like a small version of the man who had just left, wandered off down the street. He was certain that was not Harry. It was almost an hour later when the door opened again, and a smaller boy with messy black hair and glasses stepped out. He was wearing clothes which obviously used to be the first boy's clothes. He had them pulled and tucked as best he could. He walked across the street and down a few houses. Severus followed. He knew, this had to be Harry, his father's hair had appeared much the same. But, this boy was smaller than most of the first years he had seen. He watched the boy go into the back garden of a neighboring house. A few minutes later, he heard a lawnmower start. Using that noise as cover he went into the yard, still disillusioned.

Harry left as soon as he could to go to Mrs. Figg's yard. He wanted to make sure he was home in time to get the post. He could only imagine the uproar if someone else where to see a letter from a magic school. Harry had just started mowing when he felt it. He had dubbed it his 'spidey sense' after the comic book. It was generally what alerted him to Dudley and his gang being nearby, but this was different. For lack of a better way to test it, Harry tried to 'reach out' as he slowly mowed to see if he could figure out what he was sensing. Then it hit him. He stopped and turned the mower so he could see where he was sure someone was standing. There was no one there, he was confused for a second until he remember that if he could turn things invisible certainly a schooled wizard could turn themselves invisible, right?

Harry turned the mower and mowed toward the spot where he felt the person was located. He stopped and let the mower turn off and spoke softly.

"I am Harry Potter, did you get my letter and come to see me about school," he said to what appeared to be the empty lawn just inside the gate.

There was a moment of silence, then "yes."

"I need to finish the lawn, then I can talk with you. Is that alright?" Harry asked.

"Of course," Severus answered. "I will wait."

"Thank you." Harry said has he started the lawn mower.

Harry mowed as quickly as he could and used his magic as needed to make sure everything looked as if he had taken the time he should have to do it right. He didn't care, there was someone here to talk to him!

If Severus had been visible, you would have seen his jaw drop! The boy had known exactly where he was, how was this even possible. He watched him work, much faster than should have been possible, he had mowed lawns as a kid, he knew. He was sure many times, that things happened which should not have happened. Something here was not right, but he would have to wait to find out what. When Harry was done, he checked in with Mrs. Figgs then met the invisible man.

"I'm done sir," he said beaming.

"Excellent, is there someplace where we could go to talk?" Severus asked.

Harry thought for a second.

"My aunt was going to the salon. She would have left already. We can go back to my house. I doubt my cousin will be home for a few more hours."

"Very well. Lead the way."

Harry nearly bounced home, he was so happy. Severus was trying desperately to figure out what was going on. When Harry got to the door he opened it, and then stepped aside to tie his shoe. Severus stepped on in, and Harry followed after. As soon as Harry shut the door Severus revealed himself.

"I am Professor Severus Snape, potions master at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

"Aggh," Harry said as his eyes grew big. "You knew my mom! She wrote about you in her letter a few times!"

"Excuses me," Snape said at a loss for words. Lily had written about him?

"Yes, you lived near her, and went to school with her before Hogwarts."

"Yes, that is true." Snape admitted.

"I have so many questions," Harry said. "Let's sit in the kitchen."

"Very well," Snape said following him back and sitting at the table.

"Would you like some tea?" Harry offered.

Snape shook his head no. At least the boy had manners.

"Thank you, but first things first. How did your aunt and uncle take your Hogwarts letter?" Snape asked. "Your letter to us sounded like it was not good."

Harry's excitement feld, and from Severus view it was like the boy crumbled. When he spoke again it was soft.

"They don't know about it. When it came in the mail, I hid it. I made it look like junk mail so they would throw it way. Once they were asleep I snuck out and took it out of the bin. I changed it back and read it. Then I wrote the letter. I don't know what to do."

Harry looked up at Severus with pleading eyes.

"I really want to go to Hogwarts, but anytime anything odd happens... I get in a lot of trouble. I practice really hard to try and control it, but sometimes, when I am really emotional, things just happen. My aunt and uncle do not believe in magic, they won't even let me say the word."

Only Severus' years of training allowed his face not to show his shock, his anger, and his frustration.

"So they never told you that you are a wizard, and that your parents were both magical?"

"No."

"I'm curious, what did they tell you about how you ended up in their care?"

"My parents died in a car crash like my grandparents, and they got stuck with me."

Severus exhaled sharply.

"No, that is how your grandparents died, but not your parents."

Severus was thinking, this was worse than he had ever imagined.

"What happened to them?" Harry asked softly.

Severus looked over at the boy and his anger left. How could he explain this to someone so young and with no knowledge of the wizarding world.

"Harry, what do you know of WW II?"

"You mean the war with Hitler?" He asked confused.

"Yes," Severus said, "you understand how evil that man was?"

"Yeah, he was awful."

"Well, the wizarding world had a man even more evil than him. His name was Voldemort. He came to power near the end our schooling in the late 70's. He was horrible, and your parents were actively fighting against him. After we were out of school, your parents joined the fight to try and stop him. They were doing a great job, and then your mom become pregnant with you. She no longer was out in the field, but she was working, and researching, and helping. Your parents were making a great difference on the side of light. You were born, and their top priority became keeping you safe. One night, this Voldemort came looking for them. They were hidden, they thought they were safe." His voice was getting softer, Severus was looking off into the distance, just talking now. Trying to get through the story. "They were betrayed. He found them. As I have been told, he killed your father on the main level then when upstair. Your mother was with you in your room. She died there. He tried to kill you and something happened."

"What?"

"We don't know what. You survived the killing curse with only that scar there on your forehead. And Voldemort was no more."

"I killed him?" Harry asked in awe.

"Not exactly," Snape said, now much more weary, "but close. And you did not do it directly. His curse to kill you rebounded somehow and mostly killed him."

"Mostly?" Harry asked confused.

"He was into dark magic and rituals. He wanted to live forever. Whatever happened, he is not entirely gone."

They were both quite for a minute. Harry did not really know what to say, so he asked his next question.

"I don't have the money to pay for school," he said softly. "My aunt and uncle will not help."

Snape snapped out of it and looked at Harry and tried not to smile.

"Harry, you are the sole living heir to the House of Potter. One of the oldest and wealthiest families in all of the wizarding world. Money is not an issue for you."

"I'm rich?" He asked to be sure.

"Very."

"Oh," he said.

"Harry my I cast a few spells on you to see how you are doing?"

"Doing? I'm fine," he insisted.

"Then you won't mind," Snape said raising his eyebrow.

"Go ahead," Harry shrugged.

Severus stood and took out what look like a fancy stick. He said some words which made no sense to Harry and waved the stick over his head, heart, and body. Harry assumed he was getting some sort of medical check up in the magical variety.

Harry wasn't far off, but beyond the fact the he was under feed,there were many readings which were making no sense to Severus. Some things were for certain, he was not being feed right, and not treated well.

"You've broken your arm," Snape said.

"I fell out of a swing," he said softly.

He thought, only because Dudley pushed him.

"It was not properly treated. Why?"

"My aunt said it was fine. I took care of it the best I could."

Severus sighed and bit back anger yet again.

"Would you like me to fix it?" Snape asked.

"Yes, please," Harry said happily.

There was some wand waving and more words Harry was not familiar with muttered. Harry moved his arm and there was no more pain when he moved it that certain way.

"Now, show me you room," Snape said.

"Um, I don't have one," Harry said.

Snape was confused.

"Well then, where do you sleep?" he asked in disbelief.

He looked at the door to his cupboard.

Snape strood over in pulled open the door.

"Here!" he asked seething.

Harry could only nod. Through gritted teeth Snape seethed….

"Get your things."

Harry did not have to be asked twice. He jumped to his attic room, grabbed his school bag. In it he put his mom's letters. Then jumped downstairs again and reached in and grabbed all the invisible things. He started to reach for his clothes.

"Leave the clothes," Snape snapped. Just then they heard Aunt Petunia's car pull in. They walked back into the kitchen and waited.

"Petunia Evans Dursley," Snape said with a sneer that could kill. "How have you been?"

Harry thought for a moment his aunt was going to faint. Then she seemed to find her courage.

"You lot dumped him on us! We have fed, clothed, and educated him. He will NOT be permitted to participate in this foolishness!" she nearly yelled.

"Your sister would skin you alive to hear you talk like that," Snape seethed at her.

"She's not here to have a say in it, now is she! Now leave!" She said pointing toward the door.

"Not without him!" Snape said pointing to Harry.

"We never wanted him in the first place. We never had a choice. He was left on our doorstep with a note! Take him! He is your problem now. GO!"

Harry was in shock and followed professor Snape to the front door. Snape pulled it open and turned and looked at Petunia.

"I never understood how you could be Lily's sister," Snape said as Harry walked past pausing with his hand on the door.

"You don't want me to come back?" Harry asked her in disbelief.

She straighten her back and said firmly.

"No."

Harry looked at her not knowing what to say. He felt and odd sense flowing from where his hand was on the house. Then Snape looked at Harry.

"Come with me Harry. It will be okay." He shot daggers at Petunia.

Harry placed his hand in Snapes and they walked down the street. It seemed to startle the man, but he held on loosely to Harry's hand. Harry had no idea how long they walked. The next thing he knew, he was being sat down in a restaurant. A few minutes later food was served.

"Eat Harry," Snape said softly.

Harry ate, slowly and cleaned his plate before he spoke again.

"I always thought they didn't like the magic, I never thought they didn't like me."

"Can they be separated?" Snape asked.

"I guess not," Harry said softly.

"Where will I go now," Harry asked?

"For now, with me," Snape said.

Harry looked up, "really?"

"Yes," Snape said matter of factly.

"Some people don't realize what is right in front of them," Snape said. He though 'until it is too late.' He reached for his pocket to pull out some bills and leave them on the table.

Harry could only nod in agreement. He could not believe he was never going back to the only home he had ever known. He had dreamed of running away and leaving that place, but now he was getting to leave before running away was even possible. A certain part of him was really glad.

Snape stood.

"Now," he said. "Let's do something about those clothes."

"Hum," Harry said looking down at his too large hand me downs and smiling.

They took a cab to a nearby shopping mall. Snape helped him purchase ten days worth of clothing for the size he was now and one size larger. When Harry asked why, Snape said it was likely he would soon be having a growth spurt, and Snape had no intention of doing this twice. It seemed a reasonable response to Harry. As they shopped quickly and methodically, Harry noticed their items were shrunk put in his bag as they went along. By the time they finished with the shoes it was time for dinner. Snape chose a modest restaurant and sat down. Harry felt great wearing all new clothes which fit for the first time he could remember. It was an odd feeling.

"Is there a problem?" Snape asked as he looked at the menu.

"Not really….sir." Snape looked at him and raised an eyebrow.

Not wanting to admit 'clothes which fit felt funny' he asked another question he had on his mind.

"What I am to call you?"

Snape shrugged, "Professor Snape, or just Professor will do."

"Oh, that's right. You will be one of my teachers."

"Yes, do you like fish and chips, or is there something else you prefer."

Harry looked at the menu, he'd never been allowed to go to restaurants. He was always left with a sandwich when the rest of the family went out.

"Sure," Harry agreed with a smile. "Fish and chips sound great."

Snape looked at him, "You've never had them have you?" He said with a frown.

"Nope, but I hear they're great." He smiled back at him.

Snape shook his head as if he was once again mad at his aunt and uncle. He was about to say something when the waitress walked up, and he turned his attention to ordering for the two of them. Once the waitress left he looked at Harry.

"If you don't like them, will you tell me?" He asked seriously.

Harry shrugged. "If you want me to, sure."

Snape looked at Harry, the child was giddy. Snape was sure he had ever seen a kid giddy is his presence. He was worried Harry might be upset with how things had gone with his aunt, but it did not appear to be a lingering issue. It also soon appeared his choice of food was irrelevant. Again, the boy inhaled his food, which only confirmed his suspicions regarding Harry's food offerings at his aunt's house.

They left, and Harry followed Professor Snape to an alley.

"We are going to my house now Harry. It is some distance from here. The way we get there is to appberriate **.** It is were you disappear from one location and appear in another location."

"Oh, jumping," Harry said. "It's how I got my little hideout in the attic!"

"Yes," Snape sighed, one of the many questions he had for Harry once they were home. "But since we are going quite some distance, and you have not been there before, I will hold you at my side and take you with me. You need only stand beside me, and let me take you."

"Sounds easy enough," Harry said as they turned into an empty alleyway.

They stepped back out of view and Harry felt an odd sensation. Like he was being pulled on. He had a moment of disorientation, and then allowed the feeling to take him. He felt normal again, and then opened his eyes not realizing he had closed them. He was in a completely different place. In front of him was a cozy, old, but maintained house out a little from a town he saw in the distance. The house seemed a bigger than the house at Privet drive, but was by no mean huge.

"This way," Snape said walking toward the house.


	3. Chapter 3 A New Home

Chapter 3

A New Home

Harry followed and stood at the door a moment. This, this would be his new home and he smiled as a tickling sensation passed over him. It was odd, it felt good. It felt … freeing. Harry no longer had to hide who he was. Harry was a wizard, he entered the house shutting the door and his old life, he would now call it, behind him.

The inside looked a few years old, but well maintained, neat and clean. There were lots of bookshelves with books. Well, it made sense, he was a professor after all. The books looked old too, well not modernly bound at least. Professor Snape stood waiting as Harry took in the living room. There was a large fireplace, it seemed too large for the room, and a few sitting chairs, one looked rather used. He turned to Professor Snape.

"Let me show you the rest of the house," he said motioning to the hall.

Harry followed.

"This is the kitchen. You are free to have a light snack between meals, but be sure to eat your fill at all meals. Is that clear?" He said giving him a serious look.

"Yes, sir." Harry said with a smile.

Snape's anger at the Dursleys flared again.

"Down this hall is your bedroom and a small study which will be yours once I clean out a few of my things," he said opening a door to a small office like room. Then he closed it and point to another door across the hall.

"This is your bathroom and here," Snape said opening the last door at the end of the hall, "will be your room."

Harry followed Snape in and looked around. Compared to his cupboard it seemed like a mansion. It was really just a standard sized bedroom, but to him it was amazing. It contained a full size four poster bed, a dresser, nightstands and a small walk in closet. By standard means it was nothing fancy, but that was not the case to Harry. To Harry it was better than he could have ever hoped to have.

"Franny," Snape said into the air.

There was a pop and a mysterious little creature with a large head and even bigger ears popped into view. She was no taller than Snape's knee and seemed little more than skin and bones. She had knobby knees and elbows and was wearing what looked like a pillowcase with an H on it.

"Yes, master sir." Fanny said talking bow while looking at Harry even though she was facing Snape.

"This is Harry Potter," Snape said jestering toward him. "He will be staying with us, and using this room and the adjoining study and bathroom. His things are in his backpack. Would you please prepare these rooms for him. Move any personal items of mine in these rooms to my study, and put away all of his personal items."

Harry looked at the creature and then at Professor Snape in complete confusion.

"Forgive me Mr. Potter, but there are many things I could not ask nor explain while in the non-magical world. This is Franny, and she is a house elf."

"Pleased to meet you Franny," Harry said, still gob smacked as he handed over his backpack which she seemed to want.

"It is my pleasure to be of help," she said as she bowed, took the backpack and disappeared.

"If you need anything, have questions as to where something is, or simply want to know something, just call to her and she will do her best to help you."

Harry looked, still confused, at Professor Snape.

"Is she...what is she..I'm lost."

"I suspect I will spend the remainder of the evening trying to explain. Let's move on with the tour, when we are back to the living room I will try not to bore you with my explaining."

Harry just nodded and followed Professor Snape back to the other side of the house. They passed the living room and kitchen, then a dining room and a library. Wow, he had a lot of books. Then they came his personal rooms. These were his study, bedroom and bathroom and asked Harry to respect his privacy, knock or call for Franny if Harry needed him while he was in his personal rooms. Harry nodded in acknowledgement. They then went back to the center of the house where the stairs where, located off the living room and kitchen.

"Upstairs are two more smaller bedrooms, a bathroom and sitting room. Downstairs is my personal potions lab. There is no real reason to go upstairs, but if you would like to look around I see no reason why you cannot. However, downstairs you cannot go without me. There are things down there which could be dangerous. Do we have an understanding?"

"Yes, sir."

"Now let's go talk in the living room."

The returned and Harry was surprised to see a light snack and drinks for them already there.

Harry pointed to the tray.

"Franny brought them," Snape explained as he sat down motioning for Harry to sit opposite of him.

"I guess she is as good a place to start as any," Snape said taking a drink from the tray and sitting back. Harry took a biscuit and a drink sat on the edge of the couch to listen. He was sure this was going to better than anything he had imagined.

"A house elf," he started, "is similar to a servant."

Harry's eyes got a big and he choked on the biscuit a little.

"I said similar Mr. Potter, not the same. They love to help, work, and serve a family. They are creatures as old as wizards, and have lived with and helped them for centuries. They are bound to a family, and seem to derive their magic, in part, from the family or institution they serve. Franny is actually a Hogwarts house elf. Headmaster Dumbledore has assigned her to me, and she spends the summer here at my home, helping me keep house here. I am a bachelor, and find having her to help me keep house a great asset."

Harry nodded a bit relieved and so Snape continued.

"House elves, who work for a family which loves and respects them, are some of the most fulfilled and devoted creatures I have ever seen. The opposite is also true. Not all families treat their house elves as they should, and some evil families even treat them as lesser beings, slaves even. There are some families who would even abuse them."

"That's sad," Harry said thinking he was sure his previous family would be like that.

"It is, but there are many thing in the wizarding world that to you, having grown up non-magical, will seem old fashioned or outdated. A house elf with no family to serve will fall ill, go crazy and die."

Harry nodded.

"I will help explain things as we come across them. There is simply too much to try and do it all in one evening, and you could not possibly remember it all. It was often times a difficult transition for me, and I hope to smooth it out somewhat for you."

"Thanks," Harry said happily.

"Now if you do not mind, I have more than a few questions for you."

"Sure," Harry shrugged.

"From my time with you, I have witnessed or been told about the following magics you have preformed," he used Harry's words to keep him at ease, he wanted to know what he was dealing with here and get the fullest picture possible.

"First, even though you could not see me, you were able to sense where I was was."

"Yes," Harry said. Snape nodded and continued.

"Second, you were able to _change_ your Hogwarts letter into piece of junk mail."

"Yes, I call it disguising things. I often had to change school papers. I could not get better grades than Dudley or I would be accused of cheating and get in trouble."

"I see," Snape said, "so this is easy for you to do?"

"Not at first it wasn't, but now, it is?"

"When did you first do this?"

"First year of school at final grades. I tried really hard to do poorly on my final tests, but I noticed my grades were better than Dudley's. I knew I was going to get in trouble and was upset and wished them to be lower than Dudley's. They changed all on their own."

"I see." Snape was starting to understand. "So when things, just happened, you saw those things were possible and then worked to improve the newly discovered skill?" He offered.

"Exactly," Harry beamed. "One time I was running to get away from Dudley's gang….I knew they had me cornered, and I was going to get caught, then beat up. I wished I was on the roof … and poof, I was there. That's how I learned to jump."

"Hum," Snape was torn between anger at the Dursleys and amazement at what Harry was able to accomplish.

"So am I safe to guess the invisible things in your bag where to keep them hidden from your aunt?"

"Yep, my aunt, my uncle, my cousin, all of them. They would take anything they thought was important to me. It's not much really, just things from school, and a little money I have found or earned over time."

"What else have you discovered you can do?" Snape ventured.

"The first thing I learned was to move things," Harry said as he called another biscuit wordlessly to his hand, it almost seemed easier here. Probably because he was not nervous about getting caught.

Snape raised an eyebrow.

"I learned to push things too," as he moved the try a bit. Snape nodded as he took another sip, keeping a well practiced expressionless face.

"It took a lot of time and practice in my cupboard at night to do this. For a few years that is all I really needed to stay ahead of my aunt, uncle and cousin. But it's been harder these last few years as more and more things have … just happened."

"Really?" Snape invited.

"Yeah, things at home started to vibrate when they were yelling at me. That got me sent to my cupboard. My bed was uncomfortable, so it started changing into a comfy bed. That scared me until I realized I could undo it when I got up and change it back when I went to bed."

"How convenient," Snape mused.

Harry smiled at him and he continued.

"I found I was able to fix things that were broken so I could use them. I made my clothes stay on even if they were too big. I made my hair grow back,"

"What?" Snape asked.

"Oh, before school one year my aunt said my hair was a mess and tried to cut it herself. She did a horrible job and it looked awful. I went to bed so upset that night," he caught himself when he almost admitted to crying himself to sleep. "When I woke up it was back to normal, and it never needs cutting."

"Fascinating," Snape said a bit funny and sarcastically at the same time.

Truth be told, his hair looked just like his father's and Snape was not too fond of this fact. It was a good thing he had his mother's piercing green eyes.

"Oh, and this year, I made the snakes at the zoo freak out when we went there for school. I accidently let a huge boa constrictor out."

He looked over at Snape who seemed to have taken an interest in this.

"Explain that one a bit more please," Snape offered as he sat up and placed his cup on the coffee table.

"Well, our class went to the zoo, and when we went into the reptile house I realized I could understand what the snakes were saying. I have no idea why. I wondered if they would be able to understand me. I went over to a corner where a large boa constrictor was and asked him if he could understand me. Apparently, even though I know I whispered, all the snakes heard me because they all went silent. The large snake said yes and then moved. That made all the other students come rushing over, and it kind of freaked me out. All of the other snakes started talking at once...it was really loud. They were saying things like the wanted to be free, they wanted out. I got really nervous, ... then kids started screaming. I grabbed an adult and left. Apparently the glass on the boa constrictors cage vanished, and he got out. The reptile house was closed when we went past it later on. I am not sure what happened to him. Dudley was there, and he told his parents of course. I spent a week in my cupboard, and then I had to clean Mrs. Figgs yard. That's how that started. It was a jungle mess when I first started. I tried talking to a few grass snakes, but they just wriggled off. I finally caught one, and he finally managed to get up the nerve to talk back to me. He was scared though, so I let him go. I've tried to talk to few other animals, but none seem to respond."

"That is a rare magical ability Potter. You are what is known in the magical world as a Parselmouth. It is the ability to talk with snakes. From what I know, they must also obey you as well."

"So what, I could have an army of grass snakes," Harry laughed. "What good is that?"

"Hum," Snape though, if he only knew, "I believe I could find you a book on it if you would like. It is a rather rare and obscure talent."

"Have you ever known anyone who was a … Parse….

"Parselmouth, and yes."

"Who?" Harry asked excited.

"Voldemort." Snape said flatly.

"Oh," Harry said sitting back. "That's not a good thing huh."

"It is neither good nor bad. However, I will warn you that wizarding people are rather suspicious of it. It might be something you chose to keep to yourself unless there is a reason not to."

"Yeah, well, so much for having a pet snake," Harry seemed disappointed.

"I think that can be arranged. We may need to make some...arrangements, but you seem to have a talent for keeping this hidden," he said with a smirk.

Harry smiled and yawned.

"Potter, it has been a busy day and you are tired. I have a few things I would like to brew tonight, and I need to make a plan as to how to get your school things for tomorrow."

Harry remembered the list.

"Where do we get things like that?" he asked.

"From the wizarding version of a shopping center. It is called Diagon Alley. We will go there tomorrow, and I am guessing it will be quite the shock to you. It was when I first saw it."

"Oh, we can get all the stuff on the list there."

"And more, we will spend the day there. For now, I suggest a good rest. I will be downstairs working a few things. If you need anything, ask Franny."

Snape stood and Harry was pleased to go and search his new room. Snape headed to the basement. He had a regimen of potions to design to repair Harry's body, and bring it up to where it should be had he not been denied the food and care he needed. Then, he wanted to do some research. Something was not right about Harry's magic. He was not sure what was going on there. He sent a quick message to Dumbledore to let him know things with Harry were fine. He would go see the headmaster soon enough. He was pretty sure having Harry with him was not what the headmaster had in mind. However, there was no way he was leaving him in that house for one more day. Plus, he wanted for answers before heading to Dumbledore.

Dumbledore had watched the devices which monitored Harry throughout the day. They had whirled and popped a bit, but were fine now. He was most concerned with the one which told him about the protection wards at Harry's house, those must be maintained at all costs. They offered Harry a protection he could get in no other way. The were spinning at one point, but were now settled and fine, even stronger in color than before, which pleased him. Dumbledore was sure Severus had been able to talk some sense into Harry's family.

A bright silver doe appeared in his office.

"Harry is well. We are getting his things for school this week. More later." Snape's voice said as the patronus faded.

Dumbledore smiled. Well, that was settled. He then turned his attention to a more pressing issue.

Harry spent a few minutes looking around his room. Finding where Franny had placed all of his new clothes. Then he heard the bathwater start to run.

"Young master," Franny said after popping in. "Your bath will be ready in just a minute. Is there anything you have not been able to find?" She asked.

"Where did you put my mother's letters?" He asked closing the clothes draw.

"All your personal items Franny put here, in the closet on these selves. I turned them seeable again. It was very hard. Young master is most powerful." Franny said almost bouncing.

Harry smiled at the happy creature.

"They are very important to me. They are all I have of my mother's." He said patting them.

"Franny will keep them safe master. The bath is ready now and your sleep clothes are in the bathroom for whens you gets out." She bowed.

"Thanks Franny, you are awesome."

The house elf seemed to be giggling as she popped away.

Snape was down in his basement working on the health problem that was Harry. He had been denied the food he needed, and in a non magical human that was bad enough in itself, but nothing a good diet could not fix over the course of a year. However, in a magical human it was also the time, in which, their magical core was being established. Harry's magical reading made absolutely no sense to him whatsoever. There was damage there, that much was certain. It was, thankfully, not so far gone that it could not be repaired with time and care, but there was more to it. This had Lily's fingerprints all over it. Lily was a researcher, a learner, she would have fit just as well in Ravenclaw there was no doubt about about it. Toward the end she was desperate to make sure that Harry was safe, and Snape was certain she had done something to Harry. He could see her hand in all of this. Once he was done with the potions, he went up to his study and looked at his best texts. He knew them well, and knew the answer was not in them. He had an idea of where to look for the texts Lily might have been working with when she was killed, but that would have to wait until tomorrow.

"Franny," He called softly an the house elf appeared.

"Yes master," he said.

"Is Harry in bed and asleep?" He asked.

"Yes, young master found the places of all his things, then took a bath and went right to bed. Franny brought him milk and he drank it, and.."

Franny looked a bit put out and Snape had to step in.

"It is okay Franny, it's fine," he assured her.

"It is not the milk master, Franny did not do a good job on young master bed. He changed it to be more comfortable as he was falling asleep. Franny is.."

"It is not your fault Franny," Snape interrupted as he came to understand. "For about the past decade Harry has been sleeping on a very old, small and uncomfortable cot."

Franny look appalled.

"I know," Snape reassured her. "This is why he is here now. Anyway, that is what he did to be able to sleep. I am sure it is just habit to him at this point. It will probably change back without him even thinking about it when he wakes up in the morning."

"Franny will make the change permanente," she stated strongly. "Young master will be comfortable."

"If you wish Franny," Snape condeeded. It was easier to let house elves make you happy than to try and argue with them. He had learned that quickly.

"On a similar note," he began, "in the basement you will find three potions I brewed tonight. The largest flask is an enhanced nutritional potion. I want it in standard measure included in all the food you prepare. It will do me no harm, and Harry's physical body needs it badly. He has not been getting the nutrients he needs."

"They were bad people," Franny fretted.

"They are angry and bitter people, and they took it out a young boy," Snape supplied. "Please serve Harry generous portions, and make sure there is enough for seconds if he wants them. Please also make sure there is a snack offered between each meal. Is should be fun so he will want to eat it, even if it not the healthiest, just be sure to include he potion."

Franny smiled a huge smile, "Yes, master."

"The red potion, well, it is to help with his magical core. There is no way to make it taste good. Serve him one portion as noted on the flask each morning at breakfast by itself."

"Yes, master."

"Now, the last potion is white in color and is an advanced healing potion. You can mix it in his drink if he wishes. It doesn't taste bad. It will help him catch up in his growth and heal any lingering wounds or injuries he may have. He takes this one twice a day, breakfast and dinner. Understand?"

"Perfectly master, Franny will do as master wishes."

"Thank you, Franny. We have five weeks before school starts and I hope to be able to do all I can for him by then. I am hoping to get him off of all but the core magic potion by then. I think will need that one for at least a year."

"Franny will do all she can and can still give young master his potions at Hogwarts."

"Thanks, that is all Franny."

The house elf popped way and Severus prepared for bed as he thought about the very busy day ahead. He decided they would start at the bank.


	4. Chapter 4 Gringotts

Chapter 4

Gringotts

Harry was comfortable, warm, happy. He woke up with a start and sat up. He smiled when he remembered where he was; it wasn't a dream! He got up and dressed in the clothes laid out for him and then went to the kitchen.

"Good morning, Mr. Potter," Snape said, as he sat at the table stirring a coffee and reading from a book. "You are up earlier than expected, did you sleep well?"

"Yes, best I have in ages... guess I'm an early riser."

Snape had a guess as to why, but kept it to himself.

"Please have a seat. I need to explain a few things to you."

When he sat down food appeared on the plate in front of him. Good food, he looked at Snape.

"Go ahead, eat first," he smirked, and picked up his book to continue reading while the boy tucked in.

When Harry was so full he could not eat another bite he leaned back.

"Well, I wanted to let you know the outcome of the health scans I performed on you yesterday, and the best way I know to deal with them."

"Are you a doctor?" Harry asked.

"Well, not in the sense you know them. I am a potion master. I often create potions which, from your perspective, would be considered medicines."

"I see," Harry nodded.

"There are three potions I would like you take. Two of which I hope to be completed by the time school starts. One is a nutritional potion, it will be included in all the food we eat."

He looked at his empty plate.

"Yes, it was in the food. It is similar in effect to a multivitamin. It makes sure your body has all the nutrients it needs."

"Oh, that makes sense."

"The second is a healing potion. It will heal any lingering injuries you may have and help your growth catch up to where it should be."

Harry looked at him questioningly.

"Am I small?" Harry asked.

"Yes," Snape answered. "How much is genetics, and how much is lack of needed food will be determined in about a month."

"Oh, so that is why you had me get two sets of clothes," he beamed.

"Yes, the potion is in your drink there, so be sure to finish it." Harry took the glass and drained the rest of the milk. "It tastes fine and you will take it at both breakfast and dinner."

Harry nodded.

"Now the last one is the most important, and it is here in this." Harry looked at a small amount of red liquid in small glass.

"What does it do?"

"Now there is no way you aunt and uncle could have know this, but I doubt they would have cared. When a young witch or wizard reaches about eight, their magical core really starts to develop. This is a physically taxing process, and it requires a fair amount of sustained energy over the course of many years. It ends at around the age of sixteen, when a person's magic is then considered mature. During these years it is imperative that a young person is well feed, and healthy, or damage can be done to this core."

Harry paled, "Is my core okay," he asked scared?

Snape was distracted as the house started it shake, and quickly answered.

"It will be," he assured Harry and the house stilled.

"It seems your magic was taking the food you were getting before your body was, which is fine. Your body is much easier to fix. This will slowly repair any damage to your core and shore it up, but," he paused.

"But what?" Harry asked.

"It tastes awful, and there is no way to make it taste better and still be effective, plus it's slow working. Therefore you will need to take it for at least a year, maybe longer. Franny another glass of milk please."

His glass refilled.

"The milk you can drink to get rid of the taste after you count to ten."

Harry nodded as Snape pushed the cup over to Harry. He took the cup and knocked the foul tasting liquid back. Snape started counting and Harry quickly started to pay attention to what was happening inside his body rather than the taste in his mouth. It started as warm burning sensation in his stomach and it slowly spread out to his whole body. It was neither pleasant nor unpleasant, just warm, odd, and bit prickly. Just as Snape reached ten the sensation ended and he picked up the milk and drank.

"That felt odd," Harry said.

"I've never seen such a strong reaction to this potion," Snape said a little concerned. "When you can take it and feel nothing, then it has done all it can. What did you feel?"

"It was warm and prickly and moved throughout my whole body. Ugh, the aftertaste is horrible."

Snape pushed a bowl of hard candy mints over to him.

"Take one of these. It should pass by the time the mint is gone. It spread over your entire body? The warmth did not stay in your chest?"

"No, should it?"

"I am not sure. I'll see if I can find anything on this particular reaction," he said reaching into his robe and pulling out what looked like a small leather coin purse.

He laid it on the table and then picked up his wand. After touching his finger to a mark on the bag he looked to Harry.

"Touch the money purse here," he instructed. Where he had just removed his own finger.

Harry did so.

"The purse is now keyed to you, and you only. Only you can open and close it, take things in and out of it. It will not fall off your person as well."

He handed it to Harry.

"Tie it to a belt loop for now. Once you get robes, they will have a pocket for it. Since our first stop is the bank I thought it would be necessary."

"I have some money," Harry said looking back to his room.

"You may put it in here later if you wish, but you will not need it today."

"Okay," Harry agreed.

"The bank is called Gringotts and it run by goblins."

"Real goblins?" Harry asked.

"Yes, they can be very … specific." Snape decided on. "They are a sticklers for rules. However, if there are loopholes, within those rules, which allow for things to work in their favor, they will take advantage of it. They are are also very big on respect and honor. When dealing with them, say exactly what you mean, and don't try to cover up, or be dishonest with them. They will know it."

"Are they safe?"

"Very, as long as you are not trying to steal from them. That will get you killed."

"Right," Harry said not sure Snape had understood the question.

"Alright," Snape said sticking to the plan he had come up with. "Next, we need to talk about our trip to Diagon Alley. Most everyone and everything there is magical. As such we need to talk about a few things." Harry nodded. "Remember how I told you, that someway, somehow you defeated the Dark Lord Voldemort."

"Yes," Harry said.

"Well in the wizarding world you are …. a celebrity," he said with a hint of distast. "Gratefully there are only two sure ways to identify you. Your name and your scar."

Harry's hand went to his forehead.

"Unless you want to mobbed by well wishers," the thought seemed almost painful to Snape. "I suggest we come up with a way to deal with both of those issues."

"What did you have in mind?" Harry inquired.

"Is there another name I could call you by today?" Snape asked.

"Well my middle name is James, would that work?" Harry asked.

"Yes," inwardly Snape cringed, but knew it would probably be what he would say, "and if needed I will add Evans. Will James Evans be acceptable?"

"Yes!" Harry said with a smile.

"Very well, now I will try to cast a spell or two to hide the scar. It will come off at the bank for security reasons, but I can recast it before we leave. May I try?"

"Yes," Harry agreed.

He sat very still while Professor Snape cast spells until he was satisfied with the result.

"Now, at least, it is not going to draw attention to you. The only other thing I can think of which may raise suspicion is your hair."

"My hair?"

Snape sighed and leaned back there was no way to get around what he was going to say next.

"Mr. Potter, you are the spitting image of your father with your mother's green eyes. Anyone who has recently looked at a picture of your father could put two and two together."

"Oh, really?" Harry said a little taken back. "I don't know how my father looks. I've never seen a picture of him," he said softly.

"I'm sure we can take care of that today. Hopefully, we will be able to get into your family vault. If so, I have no doubt we can find many things from your family. As for your hair, let's just make the robe shop our second stop and put a hat on your head."

"Okay, but what do we do if people recognize me?"

"Well, if we have to, we will leave and return another day, but I have a way with people," Snape sneered.

Harry couldn't help but choke down a laugh as Snape sneered at him and then raised an eyebrow at his his response.

"Come, the bank opens in 20 minutes, and I want to be there as soon as it does. The shops are not open yet and fewer people will be there."

"How do we get there?" Harry wondered out loud jumping up to follow him.

"We are wizards, we simple 'jump' to a designated spot and walk on. Wizards do not use the word jump they apparate." Harry nodded. "And technically you are too young to apparate by yourself so I must be with you, unless it is an emergency, understand?"

"Yes, sir." Harry agreed.

"Now," Snape said as they walked. "Have you ever heard of the word Muggle."

"No," Harry said as he shut the front door behind him.

"It is the word those in the wizarding world uses for non-magical people. You would say, 'I was raised by non-magical people.' Wizards would say you were raised by Muggles."

"Oh," Harry said.

"You will hear it quite a bit, so get use to it. Now, stand here beside me, and we will go."

This time Harry was ready for the pinched feeling and simply let it take him. When he opened his eyes again Snape was already walking him forward with a hand on his shoulder.

"Best not to linger there, you don't want someone landing on you," he said as they walked through a stone arch.

Harry looked around and around as Snape guided him. There were so many things to see, so many questions about what all things were. He saw cauldron shops and an Apothecary for potion ingredients. There were pets shops, and one which just sold owls. There was a bookstore and a robe store. A shop that sold broom sticks and another which sold wands. Harry was trying to take it all in and all the strange people as they made their way to a huge white building located at the far end of the street, the bank, Gringotts.

Once they reached the steps they stopped.

"The bank is not quite open yet so let let me explain the money to you. In the wizarding world there are gold coins called galleons, silver coins called sickles, and bronze coins called knuts."

"Only three?" Harry asked.

"Yes, only three. There are 29 knuts in sickle and 17 sickles in a galleon."

"How much is pound worth?" Harry asked.

"I am not sure, we can ask inside if you really want to know," Snape offered. "For some sort of reference, a copy of the daily paper here costs 5 knuts."

Harry was mulling this over when he saw the locks on the large bronze doors release and a creature with a uniform of scarlet and gold walk out and stood beside the bronze doors."

"Finite incantatem," Snape said as he waved his wand over Harry.

He was sure is scar was now visible as they walked up to the the large and imposing building. The goblin was shorter than Harry, but he was scary. He had long fingers and feet with a smart and knowing expression on his face. He bowed as they passed and Harry nodded in return, and they approached a second set of doors, this time silver. There were glistening words on this door.

 _Enter, stranger, but take heed_

 _Of what awaits the sin of greed,_

 _For those that take, but do not earn,_

 _Must pay most dearly in their turn._

 _So if you seek beneath our floors,_

 _A treasure that was never yours,_

 _Thief, you have been warned, beware_

 _Of finding more than treasure there._

Harry had to acknowledge that the professor's warning to him was point on as the doors opened and a set of goblins bowed for them to enter.

Harry again nodded at them too, and entered.

The place was huge and there were goblins and doors everywhere Harry looked. There were large ledgers and scales, quills and coins, gems and trinkets, high stools and long counters. He followed Professor Snape to an available goblin and the professor handed him a parchment he took from his robes. The goblin looked at Snape then at Harry, lingering a second on his scar, then opened the letter. He read it once and then again, allowed the letter to roll and then called,

"Griphook!"

A smart looking goblin in a suit came from behind a door. The goblin behind the counter spook with him in a language Harry did not understand and handed him the letter. He read it and then looked at the two of them.

"Right this way sirs," the goblin called Griphook said, and led then to an office were he offered them each a chair and took up his behind a large and expensive looking desk.

"How my I be of service Professor Severus Snape and Mr. Harry Potter," he asked.

"Thank you for seeing us off of the main floor," Snape started. "We are trying to keep a low profile in Diagon Alley today, and I did not what his name spoken out there. He cannot wear the charms to hide his scar within your walls, and I thought it prudent."

"A reasonable request professor," Griphook acknowledged.

"We would like to access Harry's vault to acquire the needed funds for his school supplies. I have his key here." Snape said placing a small gold old fashioned looking key on the desk and pushing it toward the goblin.

"Also, I have reason to think he may be able access his family vault," Snape offered.

"Really?" The goblin seemed intrigued at that as he took the key and examined it.

"I have here a letter from Dumbledore giving me permission to act on his behalf in matters regarding Harry. I would like to see if the vault will allow him entrance, and if it does, collect any items he may need for school and some personal effects of his family."

Harry smiled and nodded in agreement.

"We shall see," Griphook seemed doubtful as he came around his desk.

"Follow me please."

They followed the goblin through one of the many doors and the feel of the bank changed entirely. The walls were now stone, not marble and the passageway was lit with torches, the dampness in the air could be felt. The temperature must have fallen at least ten degrees as well. Harry saw carts, reminding him of roller coaster rides, and tracks to match them. Griphook motioned for them to get in.

"Hold on tight and keep your breakfast down," Snape whispered.

He was grateful for the warning, because it was one heck of a ride. At neck breaking speeds and huge drops they whipped around the vast network of caverns and tunnels. Harry lost track of any sense of direction, and wished he could keep up with it all. There were stalagmites and stalactites everywhere he looked. He even saw what looked to be lake of some kind. Finally the cart came to stop near the a small door. The goblin jumped out and Harry scurried after him. Snape followed, though more slowly.

Harry watched as Griphook took the key Snape had given him out of his pocket. It was inserted into a keyhole and turned. Green smoke came bellowing out of the of the vault as the door opened. What in there caused that, Harry wondered. After the smoke cleared Harry looked in the vault and stared in disbelief.

"Is this all mine," he said stepping in.

"Yes," Snape said leaning against the wall. "It is more than you will most likely ever need. Grab your coin purse and get a few handfuls of each type of coin, the bag has divisions inside, you will see."

Harry undid the coin purse and opened it. It was divided into six triangular sections, like a pie. He walked over to a large pile of bronze kunts and dumped three handfuls of them into one section. He expected it to be full, but he noticed no difference, confused he looked over at the professor.

"It is charmed Harry."

Harry nodded and walked over to a pile of silver sickles and did the same, and then over to a mountain of gold galleons adding three heaping handfuls. After this he closed the bag and tied it securely to his belt loop. Snape seemed a bit… amused as he seemed to have recovered somewhat from the ride.

"With that much you may not be back here for a few years."

"Did I take too much," he worried?

"It doesn't really matter, Harry, let's go."

They all got back into the cart again. Harry noticed Snape took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Harry thought the cart ride was great. This ride seemed longer, and they seemed to be going deeper, and deeper, and deeper into the earth. Ahead he noticed a waterfall, they were heading right for it!

"AGHHH," Harry yelled expecting to be soaking wet, but he was dry.

"What was that!" Harry yelled.

"It washes away any disguises," Snape answered loudly without opening his eyes. Apparently he had been through this before.

After sometime the cart stopped again, and they exited the cart. Harry looked at the door in front of them. The name "Potter" was engraved above the door. Harry looked to Snape, he was leaning against the walls trying to recover from the ride again. So he turned to Griphook.

"Sir Griphook," he said to the goblin, not sure how one addresses a goblin and bowing slightly.

The goblin bowed back and said, "Just Griphook is fine Mr. Harry Potter."

"Thank you Griphook," Harry started. "I have been raised by Muggles, and I am sorry, but I do not know what I am suppose to do here."

Griphook nodded and stepped forward to explain.

"It is simple Mr. Harry Potter. Place you hand in the circle, there on door, and ask it to open. If it does, you may go in, and take whatever you wish. If it does not, we leave."

"I see," Harry said thinking. "You seemed to believe earlier I would not be able to open the door, can I ask you why?"

"I have never seen any one under the age of majority open a family vault, let alone an ancient one for the first time."

"Does it require a great deal of magic?" Harry asked.

"It does, and blood magic at that. If you do not have the Potter blood in your veins, it will not open for you, no matter how much magic you have."

"I see," Harry said.

Harry stepped forward and focused. He was so focused he was unaware of what Snape and Griphook where seeing. A wind seemed to swirl around him and his skin had a magical sheen on it. When he opened his eyes and placed his hand in the center of the circle the door clicked unlocked and blew open. Harry instantly exhaled and relaxed.

"I did it," he said turning to Snape and smiling.

"Quite the understatement, Potter," Snape said now standing and almost fully recovered from the cart ride.

The goblin Griphook was now the one frozen to his spot and staring at Harry. All of a sudden a roar of gigantic proportions echoed through the cavern. This seemed to snap Griphook out of it, and he motioned them into the vault. Then door closed behind them.

"What was that?" Harry screamed once the door was closed.

"A dragon," Snape said looking at the door uneasy.

"A dragon who should not be this close to us," Griphook said flatly.

"Why is he so mad?" Harry asked.

Snape looked at him questioningly, but Griphook respond.

"Dragons are almost always mad, Mr. Harry Potter."

"Oh," Harry said, looking around the vault for the first time.

Vault was an odd word for this place. It seemed more a collection of caverns. While, like his personal vault, there was no shortage gold, silver and bronze coins, there were also … things.

Each cavern seemed to be organized into different types of things. As he wondered, he looked. There seemed to be one for armor, one for various types of jewels, another for works of art in large frames and covered in paper. There were a few caverns completely full of books, and they seems to go on for quite a ways. Harry returned to the front of the vault where Snape and Griphook were standing.

"Sir, I mean Griphook. Is there a way for me to find my parents' things in this place?"

The goblin smiled, if goblins can smile that is, it looked odd to Harry, almost creepy.

"There is a ledger there," he said pointing to a book on a stand near the door, "but if you simply say what you want, we can see what happens." He said with a smirk. Snape looked at the goblin oddly.

Harry then looked to professor Snape.

"Is there something you believe I should ask for?"

Snape seemed to think for a minute before answering.

"Well, you are embarking on your education of magic. Things and necessities for that may be useful. Also, you are looking for things your parents had, or used. Specifically, you mentioned wanting a picture of your family."

Harry smiled and thought for a moment. Once again he focused, he thought about his mother's letters and wanting to see pictures of his family. He thought about going to school and the things he might need to do well there. He thought about the help he needed when it came to learning and controlling his magic. He thought about all the help he would need. Then he raised his hands.

"I Harry James Potter call to me all those things my magic deems I need to study, learn, and control my magic at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I call to me my parents most treasured possessions which may accompany me there, and pictures of me, my parents, and grandparents."

Harry then put his hands down and opened his eyes. He was amazed to see a white glowing smoke blowing through the caverns. It seemed to be going in and out of every nook and cranny of the vast network of caverns. Then things started flying into the air and coming toward Harry. First, a large truck which skidded to stop in front of Harry and flipped open. Then things started zipping into the truck; books, clothes, a shiny cauldron or two, and then more. Harry was sure he saw a sword and some jewelry, plus some smaller boxes which shrunk as they went into the trunk. It went on for a minute or two, and then things started to slow down. The lid snapped shut, and then on top two pictures covered in paper rested with a box beside them.

Harry looked up at Snape who raised an eyebrow shaking his head. Griphook appeared to be bouncing on the balls of his feet. Snape walked closer to Harry.

"Would you like to see the portraits?" He asked.

"Yes, please," said Harry.

Snape took out his wand and tapped the paper saying something. The paper turned see through, and Harry was looking at his parents and himself as a new born baby. Snape was right, he did look like his father. The couple was smiling, moving and waving at Harry.

"They're moving," wailed Harry, falling to his knees. The walls of the cavern shook.

Snape quickly knelt beside him.

"I am sorry, Harry. I should have warned you. All magical portraits do this. Think of it as a short movie, which plays on a continuous loop. They aren't real."

Harry took a few deep breaths to calm himself and looked at the portrait again.

"I do look like my dad," he admitted.

Snape could only nod and hold his tongue.

"The other one is probably your grandparents. Do you want me to show you it too?"

Harry nodded and waited. When he looked at this one it was easier. There were the grandparents he had never known, and his dad, a few years older than him. The resemblance was shocking.

"Thank you," Harry said standing up.

"What is in the small box?" Harry asked.

Griphook had come over at some point and was studying the box, but had not touched it.

"Mr. Harry Potter, if you can open this box, and use what I believe is inside, then there are a few other goblins I would like you to meet."

"Should I open it?" Harry asked.

Griphook nodded his head in the affirmative.

Harry picked up the box. It was old and dusty, he wiped the dust off of the top with the palm of his hand. As he slipped his hand over the top of the box the markings under the dust came to life and danced. Although he could not understand the characters themselves he seemed to just know, whatever was inside the box was the help he had asked for, so he opened the box.

Inside was what looked like a bracelet of some kind. It was a couple of inches in width and had similar markings to those on the outside of the box. There were many gems of various kinds located throughout the piece.

Harry Potter looked over as Griphook bowed low to him.

"Lord Harry Potter, in the name of the Goblin Nation, it is my honor to offer you any assistance you may ever require, you need only ask."

Harry looked over to Snape whose eyes were fixed on the bracelet. He snapped out of it and mouthed thank you to Harry.

"Thank you, Sir Griphook," Harry said bowing low like the goblin.

"You honor me, Lord Potter." He said standing again as a ring now hung in the air in front of Harry.

He looked at the other two, and it was Snape who spoke.

"Place the ring on your right ring finger," he explained shaking his head again.

The ring seemed much too large for Harry, but he did as was explained to him. The ring seemed to reduce in size until it fit his finger as if it was made just for him.

"We will return to the surface now," Griphook said. "Tell the portraits to go into the truck. Close the lid on the artifact and place it in your coin purse. Keep it on your person until it is on you."

"Yes sir," Harry said adding it to the fourth pie piece in his bag.

"Please, get in the trunk," Harry said to the pictures, they did so.

"Touch here in this divit and the trunk will shrink," Snape said.

He did, and once it was shrunk he placed it in the fifth spot of his coin purse. They were ready to go. He looked forward to coming back to this place someday, Harry thought as he followed Griphook back to the door.

"All you need do know is place your hand on the door, it knows you now."

The door opened and then closed behind them as they entered the cart. They were just starting the ride again when another dragon roar echoed through the cavern, closer than the last for sure.

*I sense you. I will tell the others you have awakened.* Harry heard as the cart speed upward at its neckbreak speed.

Harry decided that if understanding snakes was suspicious, understanding dragons was really not something people should know. He would just hold on to this tidbit of knowledge for know. After what seemed like forever they arrived back at the torch lit passageway and stumbled out of the cart. Snape seemed the worse for ware. Once on solid ground they followed Griphook back to his office.

"Please sit here and enjoy these refreshments. They will settle your stomach. I will collect a few individuals and return shortly."

As soon as Griphook was out of the office. Snape drank down two cupfuls of the liquid before speaking to Harry.

"Listen to me Harry. The bracelet is a huge deal. I can not stress it enough, and you will need it, but today is not the day to put it on. Do not take it out of that box. Do not let them touch it. Do not agree to do anything for them. There is too much you need to learn, and too many things to explain before you are ready to wear it. The box stays on you at all times."

Harry nodded and Snape downed another glass of the drink. He seemed to be visibly improving and was sitting more normally now as they waited.

"Why did he change what he called me?" Harry asked.

Snape touched the bridge of his nose and chose his words carefully.

"By opening the family vault door, and then opening the bracelet box, you met enough of the requirements to be considered …. Oh… the Muggle equivalent would be an emancipated minor, I think. Basically, you now have many of the rights, privileges and responsibilities of an adult. In the eyes of the goblins, you will now be considered an adult. The same may not hold true in the eyes of the wizarding world though, I am not sure."

"But I'm not ready for that!" Harry exclaimed.

"Well, that may be, and I don't think anyone is going to expect you to be an adult right now either. However, it does give you important rights and some protections as well. Don't worry much about it for now."

"What's going to happen now?" Harry asked.

"I have no idea," Snape said. "Never dealt with the goblins beyond that cursed cart."

Just then Griphook enter the room and bowed.

"Follow me please," he said to the two of them.

They followed him through another door and down another hallway into another large room. This seemed like a conference room of some kind and there were three other goblins standing behind the table when they entered.

"This is Professor Severus Snape from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and Lord Harry James Potter, holder of a scared artifact."

He then motioned to the three goblins standing behind the table.

"This is Chief Ragnok, head of Gringotts Bank at London," the goblin in the center bowed, and Harry returned it.

"And Barchoke, Head of Artifacts," the goblin to the right bowed, Harry returned it.

"And Sharpshard, Head of Wizarding Relations," the goblin to the left bowed and Harry returned it.

The goblin who was the head of Artifacts, Barchoke, was the next to speak.

"Lord Potter, Griphook has informed us you called, from your family's ancient vault, an artifact of great importance."

Harry thought for a moment before answering.

"So I have been told. However, two days ago I did not know anything at all about the wizarding world. I only learned this morning that goblins were real. I have lived my life raised by Muggles, told magic did not exist, and trying to keep it hidden from those around me. Honestly, I do not know what I have. Any information you can share with me regarding what I have found today, would be most welcome. I would like to understand what it is, and how it is used."

The three men spoke in another language for a few minutes before the same one addressed him again.

"May we see the artifact?" Barchoke requested.

"Yes, but you can not remove it from it's box, nor touch it. Is this acceptable?" Harry asked.

"That is acceptable," Barchoke agreed.

Harry could have sworn that Griphook bounced on his feet a little, and Harry retrieved the box from the purse at his side. Just as he had in the vault he ran his hand over the lid. Once again the markings danced. He titled the box so the goblins standing on the other side of the table would be able to see the writing, and then he gently lifted the lid. Harry let the goblins look and babble in their language for a few minutes trying to tell what they were saying by the expressions on their faces. He decided goblins were hard to read. They seemed to be arguing about something, and it was the artifact guy and the chief who seemed to be doing the most talking. Finally Harry just closed the box. This seemed to bring the three out of their conversation.

"Please have a seat," the Chief Ragnok said, and than sat himself. Only Griphook remained standing to the right and slightly behind Harry. Harry let the box sit on his lap.

"Lord Potter what we believe you have there is an ancient goblin artifact of the utmost importance. It was made many centuries ago by the finest craftsmen our people have ever known. Made with ancient knowledge and techniques which have been lost to time. It has only been written of a few times. It is believed to channel wizard magic in some form or fashion. It is also adaptable to those it deems powerful enough to wear it. It's exact purpose and function can change and vary as your needs do. I can tell you, some of the markings currently on it are for control and protection, not fighting or casting. The many jewels have functions as well, which we can research and forward to you at a later time. There are also some markings we would like to do further research on as well. Tell me, do you plan to put it on?"

Harry though for a moment, not sure how to answer.

"May I answer, Harry?" Snape asked.

"Please," Harry accepted.

"Lord Potter has already displayed magical abilities well beyond his knowledge and control. Is my understanding this artifact can in someway control, harness, store, or bind his magic in, so his skill and knowledge can have a chance to catch up with his power?"

The three of them spoke again for a few minutes before answering.

"Yes, Professor Severus Snape, this is what the current markings on the artifact show, but there is more?"

"Such as?" Snape offered.

"We need to consult with some ancient texts to be sure."

It was Harry's question which amazed the three goblins sitting in from of him.

"Does it have something to do with dragons?" he asked.

The silence was telling.

"How did you know that?" Chief Ragnok asked.

"Because of the dragon roars," Harry put forth.

The three of them started talking in goblin very quickly.

"Tell me, were you able to understand any form of communication in the roars?" Barchoke proposed.

Harry turned to Snape for guidance.

"Honesty," was all he said.

Harry remembered what Snape had told him of goblins earlier in the morning and opted for the truth.

"The first time, it was just a roar. When we leaving there was a second roar, that one I believe I understood."

"You had this on your person at that time, correct?" Barchoke asked.

"Yes."

"What did it say?" Chief Ragnok inquired.

"Do you really need to know?" Harry asked worried.

Everyone looked at Harry now and wanted to know, even Professor Snape.

"He said, 'I sense you, I will tell the …. others," there seemed to be more, but that was all I caught. It was hard to make out. It was weird and muffled."

Harry was now super embarrassed and was looking at his shoes. This was not how he had wanted this day to go. He just wanted to be done at this point, but was not sure how to get out of this. It was getting to be too much. He felt it. He looked at Snape.

"I need to go, or something is going to happen."

Snape snapped up. Standing and bowing to the goblins.

"Excuse us. I am sure you would like to speak more, but my charge needs to leave. His control is not ready for all of this. Can we continue this another time?"

The walls of the bank started to shake, it was too late. Without asking anyone, Harry flipped open the box and slapped the bracelet on his right wrist. They all watched as the walls stopped shaking and the jewels started to glow. Harry watch, entranced, as the bracelet molded to fit his lower arm from the high bend of his wrist to a good six inches up is forearm. To Harry it felt good, it felt calming, he breath out and relaxed into the chair.

"It works," he proclaimed, "nothing exploded. Sorry Professor."

The goblins had jumped up and came over to where Harry was.

"May we see it now?" They asked. "It has bonded to you, only your natural death can remove it."

"Go for it, but you must tell me all you can figure out about it?" Harry stipulated, just holding his hand up and out for them. He wanted to be done.

"Agreed," Barchoke said.

Soon parchment and quill were taken out, and a detailed description of the the jewels and markings were noted.

"We have all we need," the Chief Ragnok said. "We will owl you as soon as we have worked out all we can."

"Thank you," Harry said.

He turned to Snape, "can we go home?" he asked.

"Certainly, Diagon Alley can wait."

They apperated away as soon as they were able.


	5. Chapter 5 A Mother's Love

Chapter 5

A Mother's Love

Once they were in the house, Harry opened his coin purse, put the goblin box inside and took out his truck. He set it in the living room, enlarged it, opened it and looked at Snape.

"I assume you want to look through all this?" He asked.

Snape nodded.

"Can I go to bed and sleep while you do that?"

"If that is what you want," Snape said a bit concerned.

"Yes," Harry said already heading to his room.

"Franny," Harry called loudly a few minutes later and Snape came running toward his room as well.

Snape rounded the corner in time to see Harry spin hugging the small elf in happiness. Snape calmed himself. This boy was going to be the death of him! What had he gotten himself into!

"Oh, Franny." Harry said setting the elf down on his bed so they were eye level with each other, "thank you so much for making my bed like that, it's perfect."

Franny had happy tears running down her face, she beamed.

"Young master is most welcomed. I ams so glad that you likes it."

"Everything alright Harry," Snape asked from the door, knowing it was, but finding the interaction interesting.

"She is the best bed maker ever," Harry said crawling into bed.

"So it seems," Snape sneered, smiled. "I will wake you in two hours for lunch, Potter. You can rest again after if you feel the need." He said as he put out the lights and shut the drapes with a flick of his wand to darken the room.

Franny bounced out of the room as Snape closed the door, Harry was already asleep. Snape was not sure if Harry's need to sleep was because of the potions and the work they were doing, or for what had happened this morning. Either way he was happy to let him sleep. He had a trunk to explore.

Snape knew of trunks like these. They were not overly rare, just very expensive. As such, not many people bothered with them. They were basically a small house you could carry around. This required a lot of time and magic from very qualified and talented casters, thus the cost. This one it seemed had the following rooms.

First, a place for your clothing and personal belongings. Snape guessed he could fit everything he owned with the exceptions of his books in this room. The room was accessed by touching a stair carving on the inside front panel of the trunk. The side fell into stairs and you simply walked down them.

The second room solved the book problem, this was a library. There were shelves on either side, a reading chair, lamp and writing desk. There were books covering a few selves, but room for many more. He looked briefly at the titles, he would catalog them later, but they seemed like books appropriate for school. He went back to the stairs and pushed the icon for the next room.

The third room was a potions lab! Snape was starting to feel a little jealous here. He would have loved to have this at his disposal during school. It was small, but adequate. There were a collection of various caldrons, some standard ingredients, and a few potion books. Sneering he pushed the forth icon.

"You have to be kidding me," Snape said out loud to no one. This room was an armory. There were swords and armor, a dueling area, dummies. He didn't even get off of the step, just pushed the next icon.

The fifth room was a living room, lounge, study area. Very comfortable for four, maybe six people and well lit.

He pushed the sixth and final icon and came to what appeared to be a storage room. It had the appearance of stone walls and was a rectangle. There were twenty or so boxes in this room and a simple long table off to the side with basic chairs. He notice the portraits were located here as well. Still in their wrapping and against the boxes.

He walked over and opened a few of the boxes. These were the Potter's things. He wondered for moment if he should wait for Harry to look through these. Then decided he better know what he was getting himself in for first. Harry's emotions could get out of control, and Snape saw no reason to test Harry's new control bracelet. The episode at the Potter vault was enough for him to decide, it was better for Harry's mental health for him to receive these things slowly, for now. He was still organizing when Franny appeared.

"It is time for lunch Master Snape," she said kindly.

Snape stretched and looked at how he had organized the room. He still had over half of the boxes to go through, but he could use a break. He was very glad he had chosen to do this without Harry. There were many things in here Snape was sure would be difficult for Harry.

"Very well. Wake Harry and have him come to the kitchen."

Snape selected two items, placed them in his robes and headed up to the kitchen himself. Snape was deciding the best way to present the two items when a not quite awake Harry stumbled into the kitchen and sat down at the small table there. He yawned and looked at the professor.

"Why am I so tired," he asked as he tried to rub his eyes awake.

"The potion I have given you to heal any injuries and help you catch up on your growth is working hard. This phase will last only a week at most, then it will slow down. Just rest, and let your body heal."

Snape finished speaking as lunch appeared on the table. This perked Harry up a bit as he realized he was hungry and started to eat. What Snape failed to mention to Harry is, to Snape, Harry's need to rest was further evidence as to how neglected Harry had been at the Dursleys. The harder the potion had to work, the more damage there was to repair. The growth would happen slowly.

Snape ate his much lighter lunch slowly so as to finish about the same time as Harry. Harry finally leaned back and stretched. Snape's eyes lingered for a second on Harry's now decorated right hand and forearm, he took a deep breath, deciding to deal with the jewelry later.

"I have something I think you would like for your nightstand Harry," he said placing a small picture frame from his robes on the table.

Harry gingerly reached for it and looked at it. It was a picture of his parents together at Hogwarts he assumed. They were in school robes and seemed, young, carefree and happy.

"Thank you professor," Harry said, touching the happy couple as they held each other.

"I found it in your trunk, and thought it belong with you."

Harry only nodded. Snape gave him a minute, and it was Harry who spoke next.

"What did you find in the trunk?" He asked finally looking at his professor.

Harry could not help but smile a little at the expression which crossed Snape's face as he searched for the right words. Snape did not want to insult the boy's family, but it pained him.

"Trunk is a kind for that thing. It is more like a house," he snarled.

"Really?" Harry said looking toward where he had left it. "How's that possible."

Snape took a deep breath and started explaining.

"It is much like the coin purse, in that is has six compartments. Each one is larger than it seems. In truth, it is has six rooms."

"Rooms?" Harry asked astonished.

"Yes, rooms. The first is a closet nearer the size of your bedroom."

Harry's jaw dropped.

"The second is a library near the size of your study. The third, a small potions lab."

Harry recovered his jaw, but not his surprise.

"The fourth is an armory," Snape said, as he shook his own head at the thought.

"The fifth is a sitting room, and the last is a storage room. Your parents things are in there."

Harry just nodded trying to take it all in.

"I am still want to catalog and go through the items in all of the rooms. Until then, please just look. I don't want you getting hurt because we didn't know what something was."

Harry looked out a window into the back garden.

"How long will it take for you to finish?" Harry asked.

"Franny and I should be done by tomorrow, but the storage room...I think you need to take those things slowly," Snape offered.

He pulled out something, Harry did not know what it was, and placed it on the table. It looked like a large cube, Harry picked it up. It was softer than he thought it would be, and any time he touched one of the six surfaces something would happen. Colored lights would dance across it, or a shape of an animal would run across. He looked at Snape.

"What is it?"

"It is a child's toy," he said softly, watching Harry's actions keenly.

"It's my toy," he said in a whisper, and Snape nodded.

Harry took a deep breath and Snape watched as the jewels on Harry's bracelet started to glow and shimmer. He saw no other sign anything was a miss. Snape calmed and was grateful somewhere down Harry's line, someone had found a solution for Harry's current need. Finally, after playing with the toy for a minute Harry spoke.

"I'm still pretty tired. Can I play out back for a little while and then go back to bed until dinner?"

"Certainly," Snape assured him.

Harry took the two items and walked out into the back yard. He went behind a large three and sat down out of sight. Then, he let himself cry.

"Make sure he ends up in his bed, not sleeping out there, Franny," Snape said to the air.

"Yes, sir. He is crying, sir," Franny said, obviously upset by this.

"I figured as much," Snape said sighing. He had judged things correctly. Harry would now have to deal with the loss of his parents. It was not going to be an easy month on many levels.

"Let him be," he told the elf, "he needs to process these feelings. If he falls asleep out there, move him to his room."

The house elf nodded and looked to where Harry must be in the yard.

"I am going to continue my work in the trunk. When you have the time I would like a detailed inventory on everything in there, on parchment, for me too look at. If anything in there is magical in a way you do not understand, please be sure to set it safely aside so I may examine it."

"Yes, master. Franny will do whats you ask."

"I will take care of the sixth room, the storage room. You can do the others."

The elf nodded and popped away. Snape stood looked toward where Franny did, then turned and headed for the trunk. This was a kind pain with which he could not help.

In the next to the last box, Snape found what he was hoping too. This box seems to contain the items from Lily's personal desk. He eyes became huge when he realized the wand holder in his hand was not empty. He turned it over and sure enough, Lily's wand was in it. Why? Generally, when a witch or wizard dies their wand is buried with him unless there is a really good reason not to do so. Lily was actively being hunted by Voldemort, he would think she would have had it on her at the time of her death. The only way Snape could think her wand would not have been buried with her is if, it wasn't with her at her death. This only added to the mystery. The last box had more books, notes, and her notebook. He took these two boxes to his study. He needed to find out what Lily had been up to. He noticed it was almost dinner time as he placed the boxes into this study. He went down to the storage room and pick another item and placed it his robes. Then, he went to check on Harry.

He opened Harry's door quietly. The boy was sleeping peacefully. The picture and toy cube were on the nightstand next to his bed. Snape walked in and sat down at the foot of the bed. He gently laid a hand on his foot to wake him. Harry moved and slowly came to a waking state. He sat up and noticed Snape at the foot of his bed.

"How are you feeling, Potter?"

Harry took a deep breath.

"Better," he said honestly.

Snape nodded and continued.

"I have finished going through the boxes in the storage room. I moved two boxes to my study. These appear to be your mother's research. She was working on something at the time of her demise. I would like your permission to look through her notes and books to try and figure out what she was doing?"

"That's fine," Harry said.

"I also found this," he said taking out a letter.

It had his name written on the outside and he recognized his mother's writing.

"She wrote me a letter?"

"It seems so," he said softly handing it over to him.

Harry took it and looked at it. Snape made to get up, but Harry reached out.

"Stay,...please," he requested.

"As you wish," he said, sitting back down.

Harry slowly turned the envelope over and looked at the wax seal. He looked at it and his ring. It was the Potter crest, they matched. He unrolled the scroll.

 _My dearest Harry,_

 _If you are reading this, then in someway, I have failed you. I am so sorry. Know that your father I love you dearly and are so sorry we could not be there for you. I can only hope, wish, and pray that Voldemort has been defeated, and you have been raised by our loving friends. I do hope Frank and Alice Longbottom are the couple you went to, and you have grown up alongside their son Neville. I highly doubt Sirius will ever settle down, but I hope he has been part of your life as well. They (Alice and Sirius) are your godparents. They, and many others, love you and will care for you as their own. You will always have my love, and my magic as your protection. May it serve you well._

 _With all my love, your mother,_

 _Lily May Evans Potter_

Snape watched as the tears started to roll down the young boy's face. Then he launched himself at Snape and sobbed. Snape awardly put his arms around him, and tried to comfort him. In so doing he was able to read the letter from where it fell. Nothing had worked out the way Lily had wanted. Sirius landed himself in Azkaban, the wizard prison in anger fueled revenge. And the Longbottoms, well they were still alive, but they did not have enough of their minds left to even know who their own son was. He was being raised by his grandmother. It seemed Voldemort had robbed two generations of their futures. Snape continued to try and comfort the child as he pondered on the the words. ' _You will always have my love, and my magic as your protection. May it serve you well.'_ Snape was certain this was a very large hint as to what Lily had done, and why her wand was not on her when she died. He knew of no way to give your magic to another being. But he would not have put it past Lily to figure out a way.

A few minutes later Harry had calmed, and was now just softly whimpering as Franny popped in.

"Dinner is ready masters," she said softly and popped back out.

"Are you ready to eat, or would you like some more time?" Snape said softly.

"I'll go to the bathroom, wash up, and meet you out there," he managed with a hick up.

He crawled out from around Snape and left the room. Snape followed slowly behind not sure what had just happened, but certain there was no going back now.

They ate their dinner in silence until Harry, picking at the dessert, finally asked the question he had been thinking since he read the letter.

"What happened to the others," he said resolutely. He had to know.

"That night, Sirius, ...well, he lost his senses and killed the man he believed was responsible for the attack on your family. Unfortunately, many muggles were also lost. He was sent to prison and is still there."

"Oh,... and,"

"The Longbottoms?" Snape supplied and Harry nodded.

"Well, they were attacked by Voldemort's followers. They are still alive, but they… well they don't even know their own names. Their minds are damaged beyond our ability to heal them."

Harry nodded, now he was starting to understand why this man was so evil, why people considered what had happened to him important.

"Neville," he asked.

Finally, Snape thought, something positive!

"Neville, is alive and well. He will be starting this year with you actually. He has been raised by Franks mother, his grandmother, Lady Augusta Longbottom. I don't really know more than this about him."

"Would it be possible to meet him?" Harry asked taking a little bit of dessert. It was just too good not to eat it, even if he wasn't in the mood.

"I will see if it can be arranged before school," Snape offered.

Harry nodded and finished his dessert a little more satisfied.

After dinner, Snape gave Harry a tour of the first five rooms of his trunk. How to use the icons and how to use it in a way that other person would know it was actually anymore than a normal trunk. Harry did not mention the sixth room and neither did Snape. At a snack break in the sitting room of Harry's trunk, Franny informed them she was done with her inventory and there was nothing dangerous in the items she had found. Snape told Harry the trunk would be moved to the foot of his bed, and he may use it as he pleased for the rest of the summer. He cautioned him as to the sixth room. He should take it little by little as he was able. Harry agreed and then turned in early.

Snape retired to his study to figure out what Lily had done. After reading her notes it was pretty easy to figure out what she had attempted. Why and how still boggled Snape's mind. She had found a ritual of protection, a rune of transfer, and a rite of a mother's love. She figured out, to the best of her abilities and theories, a way to combine the three and strengthen them. It was obvious she was determined to have Harry survive the war. Snape could see her logic, and she had a sound theory, but is was risky and untestable. It also explained her wand. She had already transferred her magic to Harry in the first part of the ritual. It was useless to her now, she set it aside to be kept safe from destruction. He could not remove it from the holder. He was certain it was keyed to Harry. Her newly created ritual was a full sacrifice. First her magic, and then her life. It would only be sealed and completed upon her death, which Voldemort provided. Snape thought long into the night. Trying in his mind to recreate how this ritual would have caused Voldemort's killing curse to rebound on him. If the curse fired at Lily and the curse meant to kill Harry had been cast close enough together….then it was possible the sealing of the rites might have been in process. If this was the case, was it enough to cause a killing curse to reround? If it was, then it was also plausible some of Voldemort's magic would be drawn into the sealing. All of these thoughts were swirling around in his head when Dumbledore's Phoenix Patronus swooped into his quarters.

"Severus, I would like to speak with you tomorrow morning," Albus' voice said as the phoenix vanished.

Snape decided to turn in, tomorrow morning was not going to be pleasant.

Saturday, July 27, 1991

Snape was up early the next morning and had prepared all of the items he wanted to discuss in his mind. It was a rather long list, and he hoped Dumbledore did not resist the current situation. He was absolutely certain on one thing. He had done Lily's will in removing Harry from the Dursley's house. Nothing Dumbledore said was going to change this. He headed to the kitchen.

"Franny," Snape called as he sat down at the table.

"Yes master," Frany said as Snape's 'fast breakfast' appeared on the table.

"Dumbledore has asked for me to meet with him this morning. I am worried Harry will not be up before I must go," as he paused to take a bite and a drink Harry walked into the room.

"No need to worry, I am up!" Harry said happily. "And I feel great! Those potions are doing things!"

He slid into his chair as Snape looked at him a bit shocked. Considering how upset he was last night, he was downright cheery this morning.

"Well, you are chipper this morning," he said dryly. Snape was not looking forward to this meeting.

"And you're not," Harry said as he dug into a nice stack of pancakes.

"Apparently," Snape agreed. "I have to meet with the headmaster this morning and explain some things."

He finished his drink and looked at Harry.

"Are you alright to spend the morning here," the professor inquired.

Harry nodded and swallowed before speaking.

"I want to try out some things in the trunk," he admitted.

"No swords," Snape said as he slid the nasty potion toward Harry.

Harry downed the potion, counted to ten and then popped a mint into his mouth.

"Right, no swords," Harry agreed.

Snape bellowed toward the living room. Lit the fire through in some powder and stepped through.

"Going to have to ask him about that," Harry said to the empty kitchen. He turned back to his food.

Snape stepped out of the fireplace in his office at school and looked around. Nothing had changed since the last time had been here two days ago. Yet his life was now completely different. He had no time to dwell on that, he had a meeting. He paused only pull one new, short thread from his memory and add it to a vial he pulled from his robe, then he left his office.

"Lemon Drops," he sneered at the gargoyles as they jumped aside quickly.

He rode the stars up and was about to knock on the door when it open. He strode in and found both Albus and Minerva waiting for him. He sat back in his location and looked at the headmaster.

"Lemon drop," the headmaster offered.

"Why must you ask me one every time we meet?" Snape asked annoyed. "I don't like them."

"You might change your mind," he offered sitting the bowl back on his desk.

"Doubtful," he mumbled.

"So tell us how your visit with Harry Potter went," Minerva, said jumping right in. She was not one for beating around the bush like the headmaster.

Snape sighed and leaned back, this was not going to be pleasant.

"It went," he paused, "actually," he said looking up. "From Harry's point of view I am sure it went swimmingly."

Dumbledore smiled, "how so?"

"He now lives with me," Snape said.

There was silence for a few seconds. Dumbledore looked at his devices, they were fine. He looked at Minerva and found her looking at him.

"I am afraid you are going to have to explain in more detail," Dumbledore said now focusing his full attention on the matter.

"Those people were treating him as horrible as you can imagine almost. Even the Muggle government would have removed him from their care if they had been made aware. It took all of my control not to curse that wretched women when I laid eyes on her. She threw him out at the first possible chance." Snape spat.

"I feed him, clothed him, and brought him to my house," Snape said, mocking her high voice. "They were so bad ...Harry found me appealing if you can imagine that!"

To say that McGonagall was shocked was not quite sufficient.

"But the wards," Dumbledore said looking at one of his devices. "They are stronger then they have ever been. How can that be?"

"Are those wards tied to his mother by chance?" Snape asked.

"Yes, and they must be maintained if he is to stay safe!" Dumbledore stressed.

"Then my guess is he took them with him," Snape said.

Dumbledore thought for a few minutes.

"I can't see how that would be possible," Dumbledore said.

"This may explain it," Snape said offering him Lily's notes regarding the ritual.

There were a few minutes of silence as Dumbledore studied the papers in front of him.

"I told her not to mess with such things!" Dumbledore stammered.

"Well, she did anyway," Snape said a bit pleased with Lily for going against Dumbledore's wishes.

"How did you get these?" the old wizard continued.

Snape help up a glass vial full of silver liquid.

"This is better seen than told. Even I can't believe some of it and would like to see it again."

"Very well," Dumbledore said as he stood and prepared his pensitive.

Once it was ready, Snape came forward and poured in the silver substance. The three of them dove right in. They viewed the events at Privet Drive, Snape's explanations and their conversation that night and in the morning, the visit to the bank in its entirety, lunch when he received the things from the trunk, the letter his mother wrote him, and finally, his positive happy self that same morning. They then came back out of the pensitive a few hours laters.

The other two sat in stunned silence, processing quite a bit as Snape returned the memories to his mind.

"The last one was from this morning, just before I left. I included it because even with all of what you saw, he is still just a happy young boy." Snape came and sat down in his usual spot.

"I would like to have Professor Sintra speak with him. I don't understand the damage to his core. I don't know if it is what his mother did to him, the neglect he suffered, or damage from the killing cure," Snape said.

Seeing as the other two still had not recovered their ability to speak, he plowed on.

"I would also like to see if meeting Neville Longbottom could be arranged."

Then he waited, he needed to see what they were going to say at this point.

"I made a mistake sending him to his aunt," Dumbledore said still looking off in his own world. "I didn't think it was possible for her to treat him like that."

He seemed repentant, and devastated at what Harry had suffered because of his choice.

"There is no way you could have known," Minerva proffered.

"You knew," Dumbledore stated without emotion. "And I could have checked up on him in person, rather than using these contraptions," he said motioning to the many little trinkets in his office.

"What is done is done," Snape knew well. "We can only deal with what is. Not to mention there is plenty of that to deal with," he stated emphatically.

"Can he safely attend Hogwarts?" Minerva asked.

"I believe so," Snape said nodding affirmatively. "The artifact he wears really is the wondrous thing the goblins made it out to be. I have see it contain his magic when it would have otherwise caused problems. I will continue to monitor the situation, of course, but I feel, with the bracelet, there will not be a problem."

"Well, it doesn't seem to be able to come off," Minerva huffed.

"Yes," Snape looked at her coldly, knowing he had warned Harry not to put it on, "there is that," he said dryly.

"This ritual of his mother's concerns me the the most," Dumbledore interrupted looking again at the papers Snape had given him. "These are unheard of and most powerful, then to combine them…" he mused.

"I have been up most of the night going through all of her research and books. Thinking in my mind how she may have done this."

"Is it possible she had not done it yet," Dumbledore hoped?

"No, she had," Snape said softly. "I felt Lily's magic on Harry instantly, and …." he paused. "I found Lily's wand in her things. She was no longer carrying it. She had put it away for safekeeping."

Minerva looked at the two men.

"Would you please explain to me what you two are talking about!"

Dumbledore took a deep breath.

"Lily was adamant Harry be protected. So she started doing research on how to protect him before he was even born. She was obsessed with it. She searched every possible avenue light magic allowed. She enlisted Alice in her quest too. They both had young sons nearly the same age. When they became an explicit target of Voldemort, she asked me about this theory of hers. She wanted to know if I had any insight into what she was trying to accomplish. I took one look at her and told her it was suicide. She called it the sacrifice of her mother's love. It was a multipart ritual. In the first part, she would transfer her magic to Harry."

"What!" Minerva hollered, "is that even possible?" She followed with.

"It is a blood ritual which had been used to heal those near death in the past, I've never know it to be used to save someone who has not yet been injured. Nor, have I ever heard of a complete transfer of magic, generally only part. However, Snape's evidence would suggest she did it and gave all, not part, of her magic to Harry. The second part, to save Harry's life and seal the magic his, would only happen if she were to give her life in saving Harry's."

"Which Voldemort was happy to provide," Snape seethed from his corner.

Minerva was ashen.

"Now tell me this headmaster," Snape theorized. "What are the possible side effects if in one breath Voldemort kills Lily, the sealing ritual thus starts, and in the next breath the killing curse is cast at an infant Harry."

Dumbledore started to think analytically….

"Many, but we don't know the timing of the events so clearly," Dumbledore stated.

"True, but if they happened as stated," Snape pushed.

"I see where you are going with this Severus," Dumbledore acknowledged.

"Where!" Minerva demanded.

"Harry could have captured Voldemort's magic as well, all, or some, or none." Dumbledore admitted, hoping for the later.

But the only reason Dumbledore could think of for offering this theory to him, was Snape had seen or felt something which made him believe it had happened.

"That's...that's…" Minerva stammered.

"Too much magic for one person to have," Snape finished for her. "If something is not done, it could very well kill him as he matures. This is our problem to help him overcome."

Dumbledore rubbed his head, he was getting a headache. This was another problem he would have to figure out how to solve. Things were not working out as he had planned. Lily had thrown a wrench into his plan a decade ago, and he was just finding out now.

"For now," Dumbledore said, "let's follow your advice. Speak with Professor Sintra and have her evaluate him and see what she thinks. Confirm with her that Harry is no danger to himself or others in attending Hogwarts. Then we will see how he does here and go from there."

"He is to stay with Severus," Minerva seemed taken back.

"He is happy there," Dumbledore said plainly. "The wards are there and stronger than they have ever been. I see no reason to change the current situation."

"It appears I am a step up from the Dursleys," Snape sneered at McGonagall as he rose and walked out of the office.

"Well that's not hard to do," Minerva grumbled as he bellowed down the stairs.

"Is this wise?" She asked Dumbledore once the gargoyles had closed below.

"He seems to be handling it well," Dumbledore said.

"Severus or Harry," Minerva asked?

"Both," Dumbledore realized smiling.


	6. Chapter 6 A Magical Core

Chapter 6

A Magical Core

Snape arrived back at his office and tossed some powder into the fireplace.

"Professor Sintra," he called, stucking his head into the flames.

"Oh, hello Professor Snape. How can I help you?" a woman's voice answered to the head now in her office fireplace.

"I know this is unexpected, but may I speak with you for a moment. It is in regards to an incoming student this year."

"Yes, please, come through," she said.

Snape then stepped through the fireplace and was in a very professional office. Sintra offered him a chair from across her desk.

"Sorry, I am not yet at Hogwarts. How can I be of assistance?" she said politely.

"No apology needed. Start of term is still over a month away. I was assigned a muggle raised student to check in on," he started.

She nodded.

"I have been given one this year too. A bright young girl. I think she will do well," Sintra said smiling.

Snape nodded.

"My charge has not fared so well. He was being raised by relatives who neglected, beat and lied to him. He was told magic did not exist, when they knew it did. Then, he was severely punished whenever accidental magic occurred."

"My goodness! How is he!" Sintra said now very concerned.

"He has been removed from their care and relocated," Snape sneered remembering his anger toward the Dursleys.

"I'd hope so," Sintra continued.

"I have him on a regime of potions," Snape continued forcing himself to remain calm and focus on the current task.

Sintra nodded in approval, she knew of Snape's renown potion skills.

"I have a professional question for you regarding the magical core healing potion."

"I am well versed in that potion, ask away."

"I gave this potion to my charge, and asked him to tell me how it felt." She nodded so Snape continued. "He described it as a warmth which started in his stomach and spread throughout his entire body. He also said it had a prickly feel to it. It did dissipate in ten seconds."

Sintra thought for a moment.

"Well there is good news and bad news. The good news; it's reparable or the potions effects would not have dissipated as normal. The bad news; if he is feeling the warmth all over his body….he has no core control at all. His magic is flowing all over the place, very dangerous. I am not sure what to make of the prickly feeling."

"Neither was I, it is one of the reason I am here." Snape said.

"And the other," Sintra asked knowing already.

"I am here to ask you to help Harry Potter create a core for his immense magical power."

"Merlin, help us," Sintra whispered, realizing who they were talking about.

Snape gave her a minute to let what he had told her sink in.

"When is your first availability to meet with him?" Snape asked next.

Sintra exhaled, it was a good thing it was the weekend. Her office paper work could wait.

"I can go now if that works," she offered.

"Thank you," Snape said standing. "Are we permitted to apperbate from here?"

"Yes," she said. "Where are we going?" she asked grabbing her things to go.

Snape offered his hand to her.

"I prefer not to say, just let me lead."

"Understandable," she agreed and took his hand as the apperbated to Snape's house.

"I don't see a house here," Sintra said when they arrived. All she saw was a field and she was on a road. There was a town in the distance, but that was it.

"Really, well this is new," Snape mused. He could see his house just fine. He approached the wards.

"The wards must not be allowing you to see the house. Let's see if I can walk you through them, or if I need to get Harry to walk you through them," Snape surmised.

As it turned out Sintra was left standing out in the road, in the middle of nowhere, waiting. A minute later Snape returned and seemed to step out of thin air with a young boy beside him.

"Hello," Harry said to Professor Sintra. He held out his hand for her shake, as soon as she did so the house came into view.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Harry," Sintra said. "May I come in and talk with you?"

"Sure," Harry said as the three of them walked back into the house.

"It seems you have had an interesting week," Sintra started as they walked.

"You could say that," Harry agreed. "I'm sorry you couldn't get in. I didn't know I was controlling the, what did you call them?"

"Wards," Snape supplied.

"Yes, wards. I didn't know I was controlling the wards."

Sintra looked over at Snape will a look that said 'what?!'

"I feel the need to explain a few things to both of you. I thought I would do it at the same time. So let's go inside and have lunch while I explain, as best I can."

Once they were seated around the table Snape started his explanation.

"What I am about to explain," he stated, "does not leave this room. There will be people who will ask you questions. Play dumb, say 'I don't know,' just don't make this information known."

Harry nodded and Sintra looked doubtful, but agreed.

"Harry, some of this may be hard for you to hear. If it becomes too much, just let me know, and we will continue at a later time, alright?"

Harry nodded between bites.

"I am going to try and explain our best guess as to what happened on Halloween night 1980."

Sintra set her fork down. She did not want to miss anything. Snape sat back with the drink from his lunch, staring off into nowhere, as he told the story as he understood it.

"At this time Voldemort was actively hunting the Potter family. They were under the best protection that Dumbledore could devise. But Lily,... Lily was a mother obsessed with protecting her son. She had been researching for months. She had gone to Dumbledore with a theory as to something she could do to protect Harry. He advised her against it, and put the Potter family under the Fidelius Charm. Everyone believe it would be enough, but Lily was not taking chances. She moved forward with the the ritual she had created, on her own, against Dumbledore's advice. It was a combination of three other rites, and rituals. I found her research notes in your trunk Harry."

Harry nodded slowly eating and listening.

"Once under the Fidelius Charm, which hides an entire house and all those in it from all but one person, Lily performed this ritual. She gave all of her magic to you Harry," he said looking at him "to protect and serve you."

"That's why her letter said that!" Harry understood.

"All of it," Sintra asked shocked.

"She didn't even carry her wand after it," Snape told her.

Sintra took a swallow of her drink, this was getting good.

"The ritual was not complete however, for the magic to stay with you Harry the ritual needed to be sealed with a sacrifice. For this to happen, she would have to give her life trying to protect you."

Harry suddenly was not so interested in his food.

"This is where it turns to theory, since Harry is the only witness, and he was too young to remember anything. The one person who knew their location betrayed them to Voldemort. What I believe happened is Voldemort cursed and killed your mother, and then, in the next moment, tried to do the same to you. Upon your mother's death protecting you, her ritual started to seal. This magic came in contact with Voldemort's second killing curse. Causing his curse to rebound onto him. Thus, saving you and destroying him. It may, again may, have also drawn some of his magic into the sealing ritual as well."

"The prickly magic," Sintra whispered.

"My thoughts exactly," Snape agreed and took a drink of his….raspberry lemonade. Franny was really spoiling Harry.

"Anyway," Snape continued. "Harry has more magic in his body than probably any person on this earth. So, and this is what is really going to get you Sintra. He can apperbate, sense disillusioned magical people, turn items invisible, push and pull things, grow his hair, transfigure items, repair items...you name it. He thinks about it and tries until the magic does it. All wandlesly mind you."

Sintra looked at Harry who nodded in agreement and shrugged.

"I had to figure it out on my own," he tried to justify. "I had to learn to try and control it, it was getting me in trouble."

"So how did you get the jewelry?" Sintra had been waiting to find out about those since they shook hands.

"The goblins gave them to me yesterday when we went to the bank," Harry explained happily. "This is awesome," Harry said pointing to his bracelet. "It helps me control my magic so I don't make the walls shake and things explode. It's really old and powerful. The goblins went crazy when I called it from my vault. So, then they have me my Potter ring," Harry shrugged.

"So….you are Lord Potter?" Sintra asked.

Harry nodded and took a dessert cookie from the try which had just appeared.

"It seems I have my work cut out for me," Sintra said sitting back.

Snape raised his cup to her and took a drink...he wanted something a bit stronger. She took that as her cue to take over.

"Harry, can I tell you why I'm here?" Sintra offered.

"Please, I was wondering."

"Well, let me tell you what I do for a living."

"You're a professor at Hogwarts, like Professor Snape, right?"

"Yes," Sintra said. "That is true, but I am only a part time professor. The subject I teach, Arithmancy, is only taken by the higher year students. So they don't need a full time teacher for it. The other half of my carer is a … counselor. I believe that is what the Muggles would call it. Specifically, I help people who have trouble controlling or centering their magic."

"Like me?" Harry asked.

"Yes," Sintra agreed. "It is not uncommon for people to have issues. Sometimes the magic goes crazy, other people can't do magic anymore after a tragic event. Things like that."

"Well, it is kinda nice to know I am not the only one with issues."

Snape humphed, "we all have issues Potter."

"True," Sintra agreed. "However, we have to learn how those issues affect our magic and then decide how to proceed with life."

"See why I called you," Snape said standing with a sarcastic smile. "I will let you two talk. I will be in my study when you are finished," he placed his glass down, nodding at them.

He walked out of the kitchen and down the hall.

"So you now live with Severus Snape," Sintra said out loud not really believing it. This was the icing on the cake.

"Yeah, it's great. I have my own room, bathroom, and study! Oh, and Franny the house elf is here too. She makes the best food, and Snape has been great."

"Well, give me a tour of your rooms," she said standing.

Sintra spent the next half hour looking at Harry's rooms, well mostly his trunk (she was wishing she had this in school too!) and getting to know the young boy. They ended up in the sitting room of Harry's trunk for the actual session.

"Well Harry," she began. "Did you know you can do more magic than any young witch or wizard your age I have ever meet?"

"Really?" Harry asked in disbelief.

"Yep, and I think I know why," she said.

"Because of what my mom did," he reasoned.

"No, I think even if your mom had not done what she did, this would be still be an issue."

"Oh, why then?"

"Because you wanted it. Our choices: what we want; what we think; and what we believe. These things greatly affect us, and our magic."

"So, because I wanted to do magic, I could."

"Yes, of course, you needed the magic for it to work, or you could want to all you wanted, and it wouldn't happen."

"Ok," Harry said nodding, that made sense to him.

"Now, when magical beings, like us, start growing our magical power is centered, or grounded, in our core. It is really important that this core is strong and focused or our magic cannot easily be controlled."

Harry seemed to be taking this all in, so she kept on talking.

"When magical children are small, they are not permitted to do magic. They are told, they are not old enough yet, and they believe it. So, they can't. Their magic is locked in their core by their own belief. They still do accidental magic here and there, which is normal when emotions get high, but they don't push their magic out of their core like you have. They leave it there and let it strengthen and grow. Then, when they turn of age and when the magic is strong enough; they get their Hogwarts letter."

"So, by teaching myself to do magic, I've hurt my core," Harry was not happy about this.

"Harry, don't beat yourself up. You had no one to tell you, you did what you needed to do to survive. Frankly, with as much magic as you have, I am thoroughly impressed you managed to control it all for as long as you have, core trouble aside."

Harry smiled at her. It was nice to have people who understood him.

"Besides, we can fix the core thing," she told him.

"How?" Harry perked up.

"How is your imagination?" she asked.

"Well, I spent quite a bit of time there trying to ignore my real life," Harry told her.

"Wonderful," Sintra said clapping her hands together. "Then let's try a visualization technique."

"Okay," Harry shrugged.

They spent the next hour inside Harry's head. She had him created a pillar, like the ones outside Gringotts; tall and strong. It was made of glass, and it was unbreakable. She also had him make a large black box with a one way door in the top of it. It was located at the base and to the side of the pillar. Then she asked Harry to imagine his magic as small bits of sparkling bits dancing in the smoke, as he has seen it in Gringotts. He imagined it blowing to and fro all throughout his body. She told him to grab a bit of it. If it felt warm, it went in the pillar. If it felt prickly, it went in the black box. When she noticed he was getting tired she told him to stop taking bits.

"How full is the pillar Harry?" She asked.

"Not much," he admitted.

"That's okay," she assured him. "It's a process. Let's go back to the sitting room."

Harry opened his eyes to find he was lying down on a sofa and Sintra was sitting across from him on another one.

"Were we in my head?"

"Yes, well you were. I was here, just talking to you." She smiled.

He sat up and was thinking.

"So the pillar is my core," he reasoned.

"Yes," she told him. "And you get to put all your warm magic back in it, bit by bit."

"And the prickly magic?"

"It gets locked away in the safe, where it cannot hurt you," she told him.

"Do you have to help me when I do this?" he asked her.

"Not all the time," she told him. "If you are comfortable you can do it for a few minutes each morning and evening. It is more effective if you do it little by little than all at once."

He nodded.

"I have to tell you something though, and you may not like it."

"What?"

"No more doing magic. You have to wait until Hogwarts. Even if you were to try, the more magic you put in the pillar, the harder it will be for you to do."

Harry was silent. She was right, he did not like this. Just when he found out the truth too!

"Hey, let me tell you a secret. None of the other kids are going to know anything either."

Harry looked up.

"Really?" He was not sure he believe her.

"Really, I didn't even get my wand until the week before school. Didn't try to cast my first spell until the train ride to Hogwarts. It didn't even work!"

"But,I worked so hard to learn all I can do," Harry pleaded.

"I know, and because of that, I am sure it will make learning to cast spells with a wand so much easier for you. You taught yourself the hard way first."

"I don't have a wand."

"You'll get one soon."

Harry was still bummed, but at least the others would not be ahead of him.

"We should go find Professor Snape, now," Sintra said standing.

Harry followed her back to the kitchen, not to thrilled about the last condition.

Franny was soon fetching Snape, who joined them shortly.

"Well, I believe we are on the right path," Sintra informed him.

"Wonderful," Snape said, without really looking the word.

"I'd like to meet with him each week to see how he is doing until term starts. Mornings work best for me, is there a day and time which works for you?" Sintra asked getting her things she had left at the kitchen table.

"Say first appointment on Fridays?" Snape offered. "9 AM."

"Works for me. I think it best if I come here."

"Agreed. Can I ask one more thing?" Snape strained to ask almost.

"Sure," she said pausing.

"Harry has asked to meet Neville Longbottom," he started. "Augustus and I are….not well acquainted," he chose.

"I will see what I can do," Sintra said.

"I also feel it is best for both our sakes, that no one else know where Harry resides."

"Agreed," she said as he tossed Harry's hair in a goodbye gesture.

"I'll be touch," she said politely as they walked to the door.

"We are grateful for your assistance," Snape said with a polite small formal bow as they reached the door, opening it for her.

She was taken back a bit. This was side of Snape she had never witnessed before.

"It is my pleasure Professor," she said in response and then walked out and down the path to get past the wards.

It was by far the strangest day of her life.

Sunday, July 28th 1991

 _Dear Professor Snape and Harry,_

 _I was able to make contact with Augustus Longbottom. She was amicable to working out a date for the boys' Diagon Alley trip. They could meet and talk, while getting their school things. I am also thinking to include the Grangers. They are the family with the muggle born daughter I was given to look in on. The boys' birthdays are this week, so I wanted to check with you and see if there is a day agreeable for you. I could pick up Harry, so you could be spared the shopping. Let me know what date works._

 _Best Regards,_

 _Professor Ann Sintra_

Harry read the letter for the third time. He was going to meet not one, but two other magical children!

"When should we go?" Harry asked Snape.

"I take it the sooner the better?" Snape asked dryly.

"YES!" Harry said bouncing in his seat at breakfast.

Snape was just tickled he could avoid the shopping for the most part. He would go disillusioned of course, to keep watch. But this way he could avoid interacting with people.

"I will write her. What about your birthday? It is this week."

"I'd forgotten," Harry admitted. "This would be the best present ever!"

"Very well, I will see what I can do. Now, go do your mental homework so you can tell Professor Sintra of your progress when you see her."

Harry ran off to his room and Snape when to his office to write a response.


	7. Chapter 7 The Best Birthday Ever

Chapter 7

The Best Birthday Ever

Wednesday, July 31, 1991 - Harry's eleventh birthday

Harry was up early, did his mental homework, as they had come to call it. Then, he dressed, ate, and was now waiting. Waiting was so hard….it was killing him. Professor Sintra was coming at 8:45 to pick up Harry. They were apperbating to a spot outside of the Leaky Cauldron to meet the Grangers there. Then, they were going to the bank to trade the Granger's Muggle money for wizarding money. Next, at 10, they were meeting Neville and his grandmother at the robe shop. After, it is was a free schedule, as long as they picked up all the things the kids needed for school. They had found a few older wizard robes in the trunk for Harry to wear over his Muggle clothes, but they were not the current pattern Hogwarts was using. Telling Snape the robes were at least a century old, but they seemed brand new.

"Come, and sit Potter. There are a few things about today I need to go over with you."

Harry sat down and tired to contain his excitement.

"First, remember not to mention where you are living, and who you are living with."

Harry nodded they had talked about this before, security.

"Second, I think it best if I dissolution your bracelet and ring. This way you are not forced to answer questions."

Harry held out his right hand and Snape cast the spells.

"Now, I will be there to make sure nothing gets out of hand," Harry nodded, they had talked about this already too. "But I, too, will be disillusioned, so don't look or talk to me."

"Do you have any questions?" Snape asked.

"Will everything I need to get fit in this bag?"

Snape shook his head.

"Think like a wizard Harry," Snape reminded him...again.

"Oh, it's like my money purse!" he smiled.

The school bag had been in his trunk closet, it was charmed to be many times its size an feather light.

"Yes, and make sure you get all the items I added to your list."

Harry nodded. Snape had also crossed out a few things they were able to locate in his trunk. His potion list was what Snape had added to the most. He had also added a few books to his list which he, Snape, believe would be helpful.

"And no talking to the goblins when you go to the bank. You are there for the Grangers, not for yourself."

"Yes, sir," Harry agreed, not sure why it would be an issue.

"I will have to wait outside, if you are not out in half an hour I am coming in."

"Understood."

Just then there was knock at the door, and the two of them headed to the door.

"Good morning Professor Sintra," Harry said, as he opened the door ready to go.

"Happy birthday Harry!" she said warmly.

"Thanks, I am so excited for today. I've never had a party, or even hung out with friends before! I hope Neville and Ms. Granger will be my friends!" Harry was nearly bouncing again.

"I think we better go," Snape said moving the group forward. Harry's excitement was starting to annoy him.

Sintra took Harry by the hand and headed back to the street to get outside the wards.

"I am sure they will be delighted to meet you, and be your friends Harry," she assured him. "We are going to meet the Grangers first. Their daughter's name is Hermione, just so you know how to say it. She is a few months older than you and very smart. She is really nervous about fitting into a new world, and she's all by herself once she's on the train. I am hoping meeting you and Neville will help her make the transition a bit easier."

"I now how she feels," Harry said as they walked through the wards.

Snape disillusioned himself and followed them to an alley near the Leaky Cauldron. Sintra guided him to a family of three waiting to cross the street.

"Good morning, Granger Family," Sintra said coming up behind them.

"Hi, Professor Sintra," Hermione said turning to great her.

"This is Harry Potter," Professor Sintra said introducing Harry after the adults had exchanged greetings. "Today is his eleventh birthday! He wanted to spend it getting his school things, and meeting other children like him."

Hermione's eyes widened when she realized this was all new to him as well and her reaction seemed to make including her today worth it.

"Let's head on in, so we can talk more freely," Sintra offered crossing the street.

Everyone else followed, and they went quickly into the Leaky Cauldron. They plowed through the Leaky Cauldron, Sintra kept Harry in the middle, and they came to a stone wall with an arch. Sintra pulled out her wand and tapped the bricks, and the world Harry had seen only once came into view. It was still amazing to him, as they stepped through and walked down Diagon Alley. Sintra watched with delight as the other four took in the sights and sound\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

s as they made their way slowly toward the bank.

"Agghh! A bookstore!" Hermione screamed and pointed.

"Yes," Sintra agreed. "We will be going there sometime today to get your school texts," she assured the young witch.

"Can I get more?" She asked her mom.

"I am sure we can get a few extra," she told her, "but only a few."

Finally they made it to bank. Harry liked the bank, and he like the goblins, so he jumped up the stairs without a care in the world. The Grangers were a bit more hesitant, as they were taking it all in for the first time.

Sintra and Harry with the Grangers following behind them walked up to the first available teller. The teller looked at Harry and called.

"Griphook!"

Griphook came out, obviously pleased to see Harry again, and bowed in front of him.

"Please follow me," he said. Still respecting the request from last time not to say his name, nor draw attention to him.

Sintra gave Harry a look, but the five of them followed the goblin to his office. They were soon seated inside.

"How may I be of service, Lord Potter," the goblin asked looking squarely at Harry.

Harry swallowed, he was going to have to wing this.

"We are here today to do our school shopping. This is Professor Sintra, she is helping us today." Griphook nodded his head at her. "This is Mr. and Mrs. Granger, and their daughter Hermione. They are from the Muggle world and need your services to change their Muggle money."

After nodding his head at each of them, he looked at Mr. Granger.

"What can I do for you?" he asked.

"Thank you," Mr. Granger offered, he felt the situation merited it. "We would like to set up an account to take care of our daughter's educational expenses, and exchange money for today's expenditures. I have set up an account in the Muggle bank, in accordance with the information provided me earlier, and have transferred the needed funds to said account."

Mr. Granger offered Griphook some written material from the front muggle bank which the goblins used. He looked through the papers and nodded.

"Everything appears to be in order," he said getting down from his desk.

"The Grangers are friends of yours, Lord Potter," Griphook asked before exiting.

"Yes, sir," Harry said standing to address the goblin.

"Every well, please enjoy some refreshments while I see to these arrangements. I will be about 10 minutes."

Harry bowed, and the goblin left. Once the door closed a tray of drinks and light snacks appeared. Sintra was the only one in shock, the others enjoyed the treats.

In exactly nine minutes and thirty seconds, Griphook returned with some papers, a key, and a money purse similar to the one Harry carried.

"These papers are for you Mr. Granger," he said handing them to him. "They will allow you to do all you need to in the Muggle world."

"Thank you, sir," Mr. Granger said following Harry's lead.

Griphook nodded and turned to Hermione.

"Touch here, please, Ms. Granger," Griphook said holding out the money bag. Hermione did so, and then the goblin offered her the coin purse.

"This has the wizarding money you requested. It must be keyed to a magical being. Open it please Miss Granger." Hermione did so, it was divided into three compartments." It will only open for you, and only you can remove items within. One section for gold galleons, one section for silver sickles, and one section for bronze knuts. Has the money been explained to you?" he asked the Grangers.

"Yes," Mr. Granger explained.

"This is the key to the Granger vault," he said holding it up. "Whom would you like to hold it?" Griphook asked Mr. Granger.

"Is the money we exchanged today enough to get her needed school supplies and adequate speeding money for the school year?" he asked the goblin.

"I think it a most generous amount," the goblin assured him.

"Then I think, we will keep the key," he said offering forward his hand.

"Very well," he said placing the key in his hand. "You will not be able to access the vault without it."

"I understand," Mr. Granger nodded.

"Then, is there anything else," Griphook asked the group.

"I think our business is complete," Sintra said standing. The rest of the group followed her example.

Griphook walked over to his office door, and held it open for them.

"It has been my pleasure to serve you," he said formally.

They all walked out with Harry last. Harry paused before leaving.

"Thank you, for helping us and taking care of my friends today, Sir Griphook," he said bowing.

"The goblins are honored to serve you and your friends, Lord Potter," he said returning the bow.

Harry smiled at him and followed the others out.

Sintra lead them out of the bank and to a cafe beside _Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions_ to wait for the Longbottoms. They ordered some drinks, and then Hermione took out her list to study it, as her father reviewed the papers he had received from the bank.

"I think they made a mistake," Mr. Granger said as he took a sip of his coffee.

"Goblins do not make mistakes," Sintra said offering to look at the paper.

Mr. Granger passed it over to her, and his wife looked like she wanted an explanation.

"We were given a much better exchange rate than I was told we would get in the London office, and the charge for the coin purse was credited back as a gift," he told her. "In fact, all the fees were waived."

Sintra looked at the papers and then looked at Harry.

"I believe you have Harry to thank for this," Sintra said handing the paper back. "There is no mistake."

The Granger parents looked at Harry.

"Thanks, Harry," Mrs. Granger sincerely.

"I don't know what I did, but you're welcome. I think goblins are great," he admitted. "I meet them for the first time a few days ago. I think they like me, too."

"Apparently," Sintra agreed.

She waved to Augusta Longbottom who was walking from the apperbation point with a boy following timidly behind her.

"Here come the Longbottoms. The grandmother is Lady Augusta Longbottom and her grandson is Neville," she reminded them as she stood to walk out to meet them.

"Good morning Lady Longbottom," Professor Sintra said offering her hand.

"Good morning Professor. So good to see you again."

At her mother's prompting Hermione left the money needed on the table, which disappeared with the dishes. Then, they stood and joined Sintra.

"Lady Longbottom, may I present Mr. and Mrs. Granger and their daughter Hermione." They each took a turn shaking her hand.

"And Harry Potter," she said presenting Harry.

A well timed spell by Snape made sure that no one else heard the name, not that there were many people around yet. Snape was taking no chances.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Lady Longbottom," Harry said extending his hand.

"You are a sight for these old sore eyes," Lady Longbottom said taking his hand and looking at Harry for a few seconds. "This is my grandson Neville," she said pushing Neville up from behind her.

"Hi, Neville," Harry said holding out his hand.

"P..p..pleasure to m..m...meet you Harry," he stammered.

Harry smiled.

"I know my mom wanted us to friends, and grow up together," he said matter of factly. "That's why I wanted to meet you as soon as possible."

"Really!" Neville said shocked. "You wanted to me meet me!"

Lady Longbottom straitened a little and smiled.

"Yes, and I brought her letter. I thought you and your grandma might want to see it, too."

Neville looked to his grandmother as if to ask for permission.

"We would be honored," Lady Longbottom said. "Why don't we look at your mother's letter when we stop for lunch. I have reserved the private fitting room at Madame Malkins for ten o'clock, and I want to give the letter the time I am sure it merits."

Harry nodded, not understanding all the words, but getting the gist of what she said...wait until lunch.

With that, Lady Longbottom turned and headed toward the robe shop, and the rest of the group followed. Within a few minutes of walking into the shop, they were shown to a private sitting room. They were told Madame Malkin would be with them in just a few minutes.

"So tell me Mr. and Mrs. Granger, what do you think of the wizarding world so far?" Lady Longbottom asked them.

"Well, honestly, it is quite a bit to take in." Mrs. Granger started. "It is a very different world, with very different … everything. We are grateful for Professor Sintra, and all of her help in adjusting to it. We are confident Hermione will be able to thrive here."

Lady Longbottom nodded and smiled politely at Hermione.

"I am sure she will. I am sure Neville and Harry will make her welcome."

The adults nodded in agreement.

"Tell me what do you do in the muggle world," Lady Longbottom asked out of curiosity.

"We are doctors of a specific kind," Mr. Granger explained. "We are dentists, and have learned the wizarding world does not have something comparable. We take care of people's teeth."

Lady Longbottom looked confused.

"That is a profession?" She asked.

She knew a bit about them from her conversation with Professor Sintra, mostly what she took from it is they were well to do, but she was surprised at this.

"Oh yes," Mrs. Granger continued. "We own our own practice, and see hundred of clients each week. We studied for 4-8 years after standard schooling to master the profession."

"Amazing," Lady Longbottom said as Madam Malkin and two assistants walked in.

"Welcome to all," she greeted, and nodded to Lady Longbottom who had made the arrangements.

"Let's get the three students up, and over here, to be measured," she said motioning to some raised circular platforms with mirrors.

The adults watched as measuring tapes whisked and spun around them and the assistants took notes and wrote on forms. Once they had the measurements, they were each handed a scroll of parchment to fill out. It already contained all of their measurements.

"Thank you all," Madame Malkin said. "Please fill out the order and pay at the front counter. Your orders will be ready for pick u, or delivery, by 2 pm. Please include the address and method of delivery on the order form, if desired. Is there anything else I can assist you with?"

"This is more than sufficient," Lady Longbottom said taking Neville's paper and picking up a quill located in numerous locations in the sitting room. "Thank you."

Harry took out his lists from Snape, and Sintra helped him complete the form. Snape had crossed out the dragon hide gloves, as there were two pairs in his trunk which fit him. He also was told to make sure all his robes and cloaks would grow with him if needed. It costs extra, but better than them getting too short before the end of the year. He was told to allow for 3" of growth. He was also to get 6 sets of robes, more than the letter recommended.

Once they were done with their forms, they took them to the front and paid.

"Shall we go to Ollivander's next," Sintra offered.

When no one complained, the group headed across the street to the wand store. They walked in as a happy parent and child walked out.

A bell tingled as they stepped into the store. It seemed a tight fit, but magically expanded to allow all seven to fit. There was a lone old chair which Lady Longbottom took, as they waited for someone to answer the bell. Everywhere Harry looked there were little boxes lined up on shelves like a library. Harry sould sense the magic in this place, and it freaked him out a bit. He felt a soft warmth coming from his bracelet and once again, thanked the heavens for it. Picking up all these boxes would take forever!

"Good morning," said a soft voice. It came from an old man now standing in front of them. His eyes were full of light, and Harry was drawn to them at once.

"We have three new Hogwarts students in need of wands," Sintra explained.

"Two actually," Lady Longbottom said. "Neville can use his father's wand." She sat up straight in the old chair as if challenging the old man to say otherwise.

"If you wish," he conceded and turned to Hermione who was at the front of the group.

He studied Hermione closely.

"You are a first generation witch," he stated rather than asked.

"Yes sir," she said swallowing.

"Is that a problem?" her mother asked placing a supportive hand on her shoulder and her father stood a bit taller.

"Not at all," Ollivander continued. "It helps me narrow the search knowing the parents wands sometimes, but no matter. Right handed?" He asked.

"Yes," Hermione replied.

"Hold out your right arm please," he asked and she did so.

He measured her from shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit and around her head. As he measured he said, "Every Ollivander wand has a core of powerful magical substance. We have unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers, and the heartstrings of dragons. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons, or phoenixes are the same. And of course, you will never get such good results with another wizard's wand."

He looked over to Lady Longbottom, she was looking elsewhere.

"That is enough," he said to the tape measure, it fell to the floor.

He look at Hermione closely and said, "She has a wise soul."

Then he hurried off to the far wall and started looking through boxes finally choosing one. He returned and opened it.

"Maple, 10 ½" long, unicorn hair, nice and flexible" he stated, placing the wand in her hand. "Give it wirl," he told her.

As soon as she did, he took it back.

"Nope," not it.

At least a dozen wands later, he opened another box.

"Vine wood, 10 ¾" long, dragon heartstring, nice and flexible."

The second the wand was in Hermione's hand her hair seemed to lift, and she twirled the wand. The whole group was covered in a shower of silver sparks.

"Oh yes, that is it!" Ollivander clapped.

Hermione stared in awe at it.

Ollivander started over at Lady Longbottom. He had her eyes now.

"Oak, unicorn hair, 11 ½" long. Your son wielded it well, in his hands it was a powerful wand. Do you have it with you?"

It seemed begrudgingly, but Lady Longbottom removed a wand box from her bag. Ollivander took it and examined it thoroughly. Swished it about a bit.

"Still in excellent shape. It has been well cared for," he determined.

"Step up here boy," he said to Neville.

Neville walked from beside his grandmother and up to the old man. He looked Neville in the eye and humphed, then, handed him the wand.

"Give it a go," he told him.

Neville seemed to think he was going to break the wand, but finally flicked it. A nearby flower fell over dead in it's vase.

Ollivander turned to look at his grandmother.

"It is not a good fit," he told her sternly.

"It was his father's wand. He will grow into it," she was certain he would.

Ollivander shook his head. "It does not work that way mam. It will never be a good fit for him. If you want him to do his best, than he must have his own wand. Would you have denied his father any less?"

Lady Longbottom seemed offended, then angry, then hurt.

"Find him his wand. Bring me your father's wand Neville," she said softly.

Ollivander held up the box and Neville solemnly replaced the wand. Ollivander handed the box to Neville as he went in search, and Neville handed the box to his grandmother who seemed on the verge of tears.

Ten wands later Neville's face lit up with a 13" cherry wood wand with a unicorn hair core. He turned to his grandmother with a huge smile. The light from the end of the wand lit up the whole of the store.

"I had hoped your father's wand would be a good fit, but this wand is obviously meant for you."

"Now, where is the third student?" Ollivander asked the group.

Harry stepped out from behind the adults and came to the front. Ollivander nodded when he realized who he was looking at.

"Harry Potter," he said softly. "I was hoping I would see you this year." He moved closer to Harry.

"You have your mother's eyes. It seems only yesterday she was here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work."

He moved closer to Harry, it was creepy how deeply he was looking at him.

"Your father, on the other hand, favored a mahogany wand. Eleven inches, pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favored it, but as you have seen today, it's really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course."

The old man was now nearly nose to nose that's how close he was.

"I'm sorry to say I sold the wand that did that," he said motioning to Harry's scar.

"Thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Powerful wand, very powerful, and in the wrong hands … well, if I'd known what that wand was going out into the world to do…."

He shook his head, and then Lady Longbottom cleared her throat.

"Well now - Mr. Potter. Let me see."

He measured Harry just as he had Hermione and then went in search among his shelves.

"Try this one, beechwood, dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Firm and strong."

Have gave it wave, and it was instantly snatched away. It was replaced by a second, then a third wand. The boxes started piling up into small towers.

"Tricky customer," he finally said looking at Harry thoughtfully. "Not to worry, we will find it….It's here….I wonder now - yes, why not - unusual combination - holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple."

He left for the back room and another self and returned with the wand box. He opened it, offering it to Harry.

Harry took the wand. He felt a sudden warmth in his fingers. He raised the wand above his head, brought it down through the dusty air and a stream of red and gold sparks shot from the end like fireworks, throwing dancing spots of light onto the walls. The whole group cheered. Harry was amazed.

"Well, well, well...how curious...very curious

"What?" Harry asked the old man.

"I remember every wand I have ever sold, Mr. Potter. Every single wand. It so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather is in your wand, gave another feather - just one other. It is curious indeed you should be destined for this wand when its brother - why, it's brother gave you that scar."

Harry swallowed.

"Yes, thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Curious indeed how these things happen. The wand chooses the wizard, remember ...I think we must expect great things from you, Mr. Potter… After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things - terrible, yes, but great."

Many in the group, with the exception of the Grangers, shivered at the old man's words. Harry was not sure he liked this man. They each stepped up and paid seven gold galleons for their wands, a hefty sum, and then filed out of the shop.

Sintra lead the way as they collected quills, parchment, scales, and potions ingredients. Harry's extended list raised a few questioning looks. He found a few other potion items and even a text in his collection when he went to pay. He was sure Snape had added them. Finally, Lady Longbottom told everyone it was time for lunch. She lead them to a nice restaurant and told the maitre'd of their reservation.

Once they were seated and had ordered their food lady Longbottom turned her attention to Harry and Neville.

"I believe Harry, you mentioned you have a letter?" She reminded him.

Harry smiled and started digging through his voluminous bag. Once he found what he was looking for, he stood and walked around to the other side of the table.

"Here," he said handing it to her. "I hope reading it will help you and Neville the way it helped me."

Lady Longbottom pulled Neville close.

"Let's ready it together at the same time. Shall we," she said to him, he nodded.

Harry waited and watched with the others as they read the letter. Augustus nodded and passed the letter to Neville who seemed to want to read it again. Sintra had spent some time with the Grangers the day before explaining the situation to them. They watched silently understanding the hardship the boys had faced.

"Your parents and my son and daughter-in-law were as close as two couples could be. They had an agreement to raise each other's sons together if something were to happen to one set of them. I don't think it ever occurred to all of them that neither couple would be able to raise the boys."

Harry could only agree.

"They wanted to us to be … like brothers," Neville said looking at Harry.

"I think so," Harry said. "Or at least best friends," Harry told him.

"Harry, can I make a copy of this letter? I'd like to share it with Frank and Alice at our next visit. Hopefully they will understand it in their own way," she asked.

"Yes, but please don't let anyone else read it." He requested.

"That's fine. Now," she said. "I believe this is suppose to be a birthday party," she declared.

She whipped out her wand and started to add a few decorations. At that moment the food arrived and Augusta spoke with the waiter. After a most delicious meal a small cake with candles was brought out for the boys. Songs were sung and the boys tried to blow out the candles. After a few tries they gave up and just cut the cake! Hermione was easily pulled into the festivities and had even brought a small gift for each of the boys. It was a splendid time all around.

At the completion of the meal, Augusta Longbottom was ready to head home. She left Neville in Sintra's care and said for him be home before dinner. Tucking away her copy of the letter, she paid the tab and headed home.

"The book store now?" Hermione begged.

"Boys," Mrs. Granger said. "If you knew my Hermione like I do, you'd know the huge effort it has taken for her to wait this long to go to _Flourish and Blotts_ , I believe it is called."

They were soon on their way. It was easy to find all their assigned texts. Harry spent a while longer looking and needed Neville's help to find the additional books Snape had added to his list.

"What are these for Harry?" Neville asked.

"There were suggested to me by a friend. He said they would help me understand the wizarding world better."

"I can't believe you had no idea," Neville said as Harry felt a few more books drop unbidden into his basket. Snape was shopping for him again.

"It really is odd," Harry agreed getting in line to pay.

The Grangers struggled to keep Hermione from buying the whole of the bookstore. She only relented when Sintra reminded her Hogwarts had a library with thousands of books at her disposal. Mrs. Granger mouthed 'thank you' to her and they were able to check out. They were more than happy to have Sintra shrink the books to fit in Hermione's Muggle bag. She was told they would return to normal size if she tapped them with her wand. Mrs. Granger was eyeing Harry's seemingly bottomless bag wondering where to get one of those.

"Next stop, the pet store," Sintra announced.

Neville was getting a toad for his birthday. His grandma was even letting him pick it out! The Grangers wanted an owl to be able to communicate easily with their daughter while at school. When asked if Harry wanted a pet he said he didn't know. The Granger's insisted on getting him an owl too. It was the least they could do for all his help at the bank. He was to consider it their birthday gift to him. He chose a beautiful white snowy owl, the Granger's was a rust colored barn owl, and Neville had the largest toad Harry had ever seen.

There was a stop outside a store that sold broomsticks, just to look. This lead to an explanation of what Quidditch was by Neville. Harry was still confused, but they were back at the robe shop to pick up their purchases. A few more little niceties, and they were saying goodbye to the Grangers. All the kids promised to keep in touch via owls and agreed to get together again on the train to Hogwarts.

Sintra exhaled loudly once the Grangers were through the arch.

"I am tired. I think I could use an ice cream," she said.

The boys smiled and they seated themselves outside an ice shop to enjoy their cones. After they were done and had talked for a while. Sintra looked at her watch.

"We'd better get you home Neville, or your grandmother will have my head."

Neville agreed, and they walked to the apprebation spot. Harry stayed back as he was meeting his charge here.

"See you on the first Harry," Neville said.

"I'll owl you soon," Harry waved and he popped away with Sintra.

Harry felt Snape's hand on his shoulder guide him into a nearby alley way. Snape disillusioned Harry and then made himself visible.

"Now it is your turn to follow me," Snape said. "Stay close and let me know where you are once we are inside the store. There is one more stop we need to make. Inside this store, touch nothing."

"Alright," invisible Harry said.

Snape started walking turning the other way out of the alcove. They were off the main shopping street and into a darker side of the wizarding world. The more they walked, the scarier the shops seemed to become. Harry was starting to worry they were in a bad part of town. He stuck close to Snape almost running into him a few times. Finally, they came to store, and Snape went in holding the door open a few seconds longer than needed. He felt Harry pass in, and allowed the door to shut.

This store was horrible, dirty, old and stinky. There were all kinds of odd things, and not good odd things. Harry understood Snape's warning now, and he kept his hands firmly at his side. After a few seconds a man made his way in from the back, he looked about as good as the store.

"What ya want," he called out to Snape. "Oh, hey Prof. Looking for a fancy something?" he asked in a sickening way.

"Perhaps," Snape sneered. "Do you have any living black magical snakes, red bellied or the like?" Snape asked.

"Livin' you said," he seemed to be thinking.

"Yes, the smaller the better," he added.

Snape seemed to be getting impatient.

"Making something special for today, are ya," the man looked at him questioningly.

"Nothing you need concern yourself with," Snape assured him.

He looked at him knowingly, and the man disappeared into the back.

"He will bring out a collection of snakes," Snape whispered. "You will talk to them while I turn his attention elsewhere. Pick a light snake, not an evil one. One you want and one which wants you. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Harry whispered back.

"You also need to figure out a way to let me know which one you want, or none at all."

"OK," Harry barely had time to say before the man came back out with a cart.

There were four tanks on it with various snakes in them. Harry was excited as he waited for a chance to get up close to the snakes. Harry was instantly disappointed. The snakes were not well cared for, and he thought one was even dead. There was one which was obviously evil. He stayed as far away from it as possible. Snape true to form: looked at the snakes, seemed disappointed in the selection, then walked away. He was able to get the man to talk about another item in the store. Harry was about to opt for none, when he saw something on the bottom level of the cart. It was in a small container among many which seemed empty. Harry bent down nearly to the floor.

*Are you in there?* he hissed.

A small black head peaked out from the saw dust in the container.

*You ssspeak my language,* the snake hissed. The other snakes now watched the conversation as best they could from their tanks.

*I am looking for a familiar, a friend,* Harry hissed. *One that doesssn't not like dark magic,* Harry decided to say when the evil snake hissed to take him.

*I would be most grateful,* the little snake hissed, *thisss place is horrible*

Snape and the man were wondering back over.

"A lively bunch," Snape said as some of the snakes hissed. "I think that one is dead," Snape pointed out.

"It happens," the man shrugged. "Want any of 'em."

Snape made to look the them again. The man looked left and Harry picked up the small container from the lower level and placed it Snape's hand. Snape moved down to look on the lower level where the container had floated up from.

"What is down here?" He asked.

"Oh, those are all empty, nutin' there."

"Really," Snape said lifting up the container.

"Hum, I thought those all...well...there you are if you want it. Not cheep though, those."

"You thought it was dead," Snape reminded him.

"Dead or alive, they work just the same."

Snape rolled his eyes, the man unfortunately had a point.

"How much?"

"Five galleons, firm. Take it or leave it. You'll not find another one anywhere."

"This why I am here," he said placing the five galleons on the counter as the man swiped them and push the cart toward the back. Snape placed the container in his cloak then turned to leave Harry right behind him. Just as they came in view of the exit, the door opened and Snape stopped and stood a bit straighter.

"Ah Severus," said a very formal and obviously rich man.

He had white blond hair, brushed back and long. It was tied in a loose ponytail at his collar. He had thin, hard features and carried a black cane with a silver snake head at the top. He reeked of snobbish, opulence and false sincerity. Harry disliked him instantly. His son, a younger version of himself, followed him in.

"Malfoy," Snape said, nodding toward them.

"I didn't expect to run into you here, at this place, on this day." He said looking at Snape in a way that suggested he knew what Snape was up to.

"Just collecting a few...unique potion ingredients," Snape lied craftily.

"I see," Malfoy smiled coyly. "We were collecting a few things for Draco as well. Trying to beat the last minute rush all."

"A wise choice," Snape offered.

"Well, don't let me keep you from your cauldrons," Malfoy said walking past him into the store.

Snape waited for them to pass, and then open the door. He turned to the Malfoys while Harry dashed out.

"It was good to see you Lucius," Snape said dryly as he bowed out the door.

Lucius smiled and turned his attention back to his task. Snape walked a few passes then hissed through a clenched jaw.

"Let me know where you are!"

Harry placed his hand on Snape's arm. Snape walked into the nearest dark alley and they popped home.

Once on the road, Snape canceled Harry's charm and breathed a sigh of relief as they walked through the wards and into the house. It was about dinner time.

"Who was that?" Harry asked.

"That was Lucius Malfoy and his son, Draco," Snape said as they walked in the house. "Lucius is one of the worst pure blood wizards out there. He is rich; he is powerful; and it is very dangerous to cross him."

"Pure bloods?" Harry asked.

"Harry," Snape said sitting down at the table. Dinner instantly appeared. "It has been a long day. I will explain it another time. Right now, I want to give you this. My birthday present to you."

Snape took the small container out of his robes and handed it to Harry. Smiling Harry took it and opened the container and the small snake lifted up its head.

*We are home now. You don't ever have to be in that nasty place again,* Harry said. *What isss your name?"

*I have no name. I just hatched a little while ago and have been alone. I hear the large ones above me, but they would eat me.*

*What would you like to call me?* the snake asked.

*Are you male or female?* Harry asked.

*I am female,* the snake responded.

Harry looked at Snape who seemed fascinated with the parselmouth conversation.

"Do you know what kind of snake she it?" Harry asked. "She wants me to pick a name for her."

Snape looked at the snake closely.

"If I had to venture a guess I would say she is a young hatchling of the red bellied black snake. The red scales on her belly suggest that. The magical version, which she is, are considerably smaller than the non-magical types native to Australia. She will grow to maybe 12 inches long at most."

"I don't know much about Australia," Harry realized. "But from the tellie I know they use the word Sheila to mean girl."

*I like that name,* the snake hissed.

*You can understand human ssspeech?* Harry asked surprised.

*Yesss,* the snake said. *May I crawl onto your hand?* she asked. *I am cold.*

*Sssure, but no biting,* Harry said jokingly.

*I will only bit to sssave you,* Sheila said as she slithered onto his right hand. She slithered up his robe sleeve onto his bracelet. *Thisss isss nice massster, can I ssstay here on this warm, magic metal.*

*Yesss,* Harry said putting the lid back on the little container and setting it aside.

"She says my bracelet is nice and warm, and it would be a good place for her. Oh, and she can understand us just fine."

Snape was already eating. He stopped and looked at Harry.

"They can understand us?" he said.

Harry nodded as he served himself and shrugged, "I guess so."

Snape eyed her wrapped securely around the stones in Harry's bracelet. Unless you knew to watch, one would think she was part of the design.

"Sheila, take good care of Harry," Snape said to her. "He saved you from being a potion ingredient."

*I ssshall,* she hissed.

Harry smiled and Snape correctly assumed she had agreed.


	8. Chapter 8 A New Language

Chapter 8

A New Language

Harry was excited to learn all he could about the wizarding world from all his books. He could spend the whole month of August, ready, studying, writing letters, and talking with Sheila, Franny and Snape, when he could get him to talk.

He wanted to corresponded at least weekly with both of his new friends. Hermione wigged out a bit when she realized the Harry Potter in her books was the same one she knew. Harry assured her he had no memory of it, and there was little he could do about it. He was also working with Professor Sintra each Friday morning. His core was coming along nicely, and she was excited to see him mastering the technique required so quickly and proficiently. She was confident he would be ready for school. She could continue to work with him there, if needed. Professor Snape's potions were doing their job. By mid August Harry had to switch to the next size of clothes, and he was feeling better than he ever had, he looked it to.

He had been researching and reading about goblins the last few days and was not liking what he was reading. It just didn't seem right to him. The way they seemed to make the goblins out, did not fit his interactions with them. Finally, he decided to ask Griphook

 _Dear Griphook,_

 _This is Harry Potter. I was wondering if you could help me out with something. The last time I was in Diagon Alley with the Granger family, I picked up my school books. As you know, I also pick up some books from my family vault. I decided to see what I could learn about goblins and, well,...I am not impressed with what I am reading. It doesn't seem right._

 _I spent most of my childhood listening to my aunt tell all the adults who would listen to her that; I was a horrible kid, how I was probably a lost cause, and I would probably end up in jail. It was all a lie, and I knew that, but the other people didn't. Many people believed her, and they treated me accordingly. I can't help but feel like this is a similar situation._

 _I was wondering if you had a book about goblins, and goblin history, written by a goblin, I could read. I always wished people would listen to me, and look at what I was doing. So, I am coming to you. Please, take whatever costs may be needed for the book(s) from my school vault._

 _Your friend,_

 _Lord Harry Potter_

He rewrote the letter two times before he was happy with it. Then, he rolled it up and sealed it with his ring imprint, which he never did with the letters to his friends. These were goblins though, they seemed more formal. He sent Hedwig, which is what he named his snowy owl, off with the letter. He had found the name in _Hogwarts: A History_ , and it seemed to fit her. Hedwig was gone for most of the day and returned with a small package. Harry though it was shrunk, so he tapped it with his wand. It instantly grew to size. He opened the letter first.

 _Dear Lord Potter,_

 _I am honored to receive your letter, and pleased to see your wisdom. Since you may not be aware, let me inform you of some wizarding laws in how we are required to act._

 _Goblin books, written by goblins, cannot be translated into English. It is forbidden by law and strictly enforced with rather severe punishments for those who break such a law. However, the opposite is not true. Goblins are permitted to translate English books into goblin._

 _It is also against the law for us to teach any wizard how to read or write in goblin. But is not illegal for a wizard to learn on his own. As such I have sent two books, the brown bound book is_ Hogwarts: A History _, translated into goblin. The second, with black binding, is a basic goblin history book._

 _These are my gift to you. May your studying be profitable._

 _Best Regards,_

 _Griphook_

 _Family Vaults Account Manager_

Harry quickly unwrapped the two books and looked at them. It was simple enough to tell which was which, but to teach himself a language. He was not sure he could do that.

"What are those?" Snape asked walking in to eat dinner with him.

"Goblin books," Harry said looking at _Hogwarts: A History_ to see if there was anything which looked familiar to him. The drawings and pictures were at least the same.

Snape snatched up the letter, and then looked at the other book.

"Do you know how many goblin books I have seen in my life?" Snape asked looking at Harry.

Harry shrugged.

"Two," he said. Indicating the two books in their hands.

"They do not let their books out of their hands. Exactly because of what Griphook said in the letter."

Harry reread the letter and then looked at Snape.

"So, because the wizards will not let them, they basically keep their language to themselves?"

Snape nodded.

"So, they are the only ones who know their language?" Harry asked.

"Some wizards and witches who work for them will pick up some. But, I have never known any witch or wizard fluent in their language, let alone being able to read and write in it. The only name I even know for the language is Gobbledygook. Which, I am pretty certain, is a derogatory word for it in their minds."

"He seems to think I can teach myself the language with just these two books," Harry seemed confused.

"I am sure he does not expect you to be perfectly fluent, but he feels it is enough to get the basics," Snape agreed. "It is a great honor," Snape added, seeing how overwhelmed Harry appeared.

"Have you ever taught yourself another language with different letters even!" Harry added seeing as they didn't even use the English alphabet, or anything close to it.

"No," Snape said sitting and serving himself dinner. "I have also never been given the chance."

"How do I even start?" Harry asked. The question was really a rhetorical one, but Snape came up with an awesome suggestion.

"Page numbers, and tables of contents," Snape said between bites. "Use those to decode their numbers and a loose translation of the alphabet and go from there," he said, lifting up his glass as of to say cheers.

Harry thought about that for a few minutes and started to try and look for other angles.

"I could practice by writing to Griphook about other things. I bet he would answer in kind, teaching me what I am really asking. Kind of like a code."

Snape nodded. "I am sure that would work."

It would take time, and Harry was sure, as he became more proficient, Griphook would help him every step of the way. So, he would add studying the goblin language to his daily list of activities.

Soon Snape was spending most of his days at Hogwarts getting ready for the start of term. If Harry had not been staying with him, Snape would have simply moved there at his point. Harry necessitated him going back and forth until start of term.

Finally, the last days of August arrived. Harry had packed and rearranged his trunk so many times it was crazy. Snape would be home for dinner in a few hours and Harry was restless. He decided to try and write a letter to Griphook.

 _$August 29, 1991$_

 _$Great friend Griphook,$_

 _$I, Harry Potter, learning hard. Know 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 and all other numbers. More hard learning required. Do goblins think wizards are control creatures?$_

 _I will continue my studying at Hogwarts and hope to be able to write you every once in a while as time allows. I am honored by what you have given me. I will try my hardest to make the most of the opportunity. You are a credit to the Goblin Nation._

 _$May fortune favor you,$_

 _Lord Harry Potter_

Harry was pleased. It may not be perfect, but he hoped it was close enough Griphook would be able to understand. He rolled it, sealed it, and sent it of with Hedwig.

Griphook looked at the letter for the umpteenth time. He had hoped Harry would try and learn a few things, but wizards had always disappointed him in the past. Here was a young wizard who was different on every level. He had taken the challenge to heart and was well on his way to learning to read and write in goblin. It was time he talked to Chief Ragnok. He felt he had gone as far as he could on his own. He took Harry's first letter, a copy of the letter he had sent, and Harry's latest letter and looked at the time. His appointment time was here. Time to go present his letters and his idea.

Chief Ragnok read the letters with interest, nodding here and there. When he was finished Chief Ragnok looked at Griphook.

"You took a chance," Chief Ragnok said.

"Yes," Griphook agreed, "however, I felt he would be different. In fact, nothing about him has been normal."

"I agree. So what brings you here?" he asked, providing nothing.

"I know the law, I've treaded lightly, but now he has spoken to me, in our language. That changes things. He has demonstrated a basic understanding, in written form. Am I free to converse with him in kind?"

Chief Ragnok seemed to think for a few minutes.

"I see where you are going with this, Griphook. It is a gray area. Talking to a client in the language they present in. It could be construed in this manner. However, the books you sent would show you had a hand in teaching that method."

"Those were from my own bookshelf and a gift. No money changed hands. The letter there on your desk is the only proof."

Chief Ragnok was soon holding the letter over a flame until gone.

"What letter? Talk to the client in the language they present in. If you feel the need to ask questions to make sure you understand, feel free. But Griphook,"

"Yes, Chief Ragnok," he said pausing.

"He is young, proceed slowly and with caution. Let's see how he grows now that he is in the wizarding world."

Griphook bowed low to Chief Ragnok and left the office, pleased.

 _$August 31, 1991$_

 _$Great friend Lord Harry Potter,$_

 _$I, Griphook, am honored to speak with you in the language of your choice. Study well at Hogwarts. I will do my best to answer any questions you may ask. Yes, goblins believe wizards wish to control, or govern, all other magical creatures and beings.$_

 _$May fortune favor you,$_

 _$ Griphook$_

 _$Family Vaults Account Manager$_

It took Harry hours to translate the letter, and still, he was not certain on a few of the words. And it wasn't like there was someone he could ask. Still it was good. Griphook was pleased and it certainly helped to pass the time.

Harry was pleased when Snape came home a little early from Hogwarts. It was their last evening together. Tomorrow, Harry would get on the Hogwarts Express and leave for school.

"I finally got a response from Griphook today," Harry said giving him the letter and his best translation as they sat at the kitchen table.

"Hum, it seems the law allows them to answer in whatever language they are addressed in. How wonderfully …. ironic." Snape said returning the letter.

"How so?" Harry asked.

"They have found a way to follow the law, but still do what they want," Snape said. "Like I told you at the start. Goblins will find, and use, whatever loophole they can. Since you wrote to him in the goblin tongue, they can respond to you in it. Because, by law, they can respond in the language spoken to them. Even if they are not allowed to teach you goblin. Understand?"

"I think so," Harry said. "But it seems needlessly complicated."

"That's politics for you," Snape said. "So let's go over tomorrow's schedule before dinner. After dinner, I want to have a talk with you."

"Okay," Harry agreed. giving him his full attention.

"Tomorrow we get up, dress, eat. I need to be at Hogwarts at 9:00 am sharp for meetings, so I will floo out at 8:45am. I will floo back over at our 10:30 break to take you to Kings Crossing on the Muggle side. I will not be able to stay long. I will show you were to go to get to Platform 9 ¾. With a little luck we will get to watch another student do it."

"Then you will leave, and I am on my own to get myself on the train. If worse comes to worse I find a quiet corner and call for Franny," Harry finished.

"It seems we are on the same page," Snape commented as dinner appeared.

They had been talking about it, and working it out for the last week. Harry was sure he could recite the plan in his sleep, he was more wondering about the after dinner conversation. Soon enough dinner was finished, and they moved to the sitting room. Snape sat in his normal chair, and Harry sat next to him in his chair. Snape poured himself a drink, which Harry had never seen him do.

"Harry, I need to tell you a few things," Snape started looking into the fire. "First, tomorrow you are going to learn many new things about me. I...I am not a well liked professor by many of the students."

Harry got the idea this was going somewhere and it was not easy for Snape, so he chose to just let the professor find his own words.

"In fact, I never wanted to be a professor in the first place, now it's all I know."

He leaned back in his chair and looked at the ceiling.

"Near the end of own Hogwarts schooling I was looking into doing potion research. I had very promising opportunities there. I had my eye on a beautiful young witch too. Somehow, somewhere, things went horribly wrong with that. Teenage hearts are as dangerous and as powerful as any potion. Anyway, in my pain and hurt, I turned to another group of supposid friends. They stroked my ego and made me feel as though I was important, and that I mattered. I turned my back on my former life and embraced this new one. In so doing, my lot was cast,

and the young women moved out of my life for good.

"I soon found myself revealing with my new group, and the more I learned of them, the more concerned I became. They sensed my conflict, and I soon found myself needing to 'prove' to them I was worthy of their time and interest. Desperate to not lose my sole source of friendship, though it was really never that, I came across a piece of information which would provide this proof. I hurried to share it and secure my place. The information was incomplete, but it was enough. I was now in the good graces of the leader. I became a trusted member. It was just a short time later I learned what this information, that I had given them mind you, would do. It was something I could not live with."

Snape paused as he looked once again into the fire. Harry was waiting, looking at the man he had come to know and the conflict on his face. He seemed to make a choice, he took a small sip and continued.

"I could think of only one thing to do. One chance to maybe, just maybe fix things. I went to Albus Dumbledore. I told him I had overheard part of a true prophecy regarding the destruction of the Dark Lord. I told him I had joined the Dark Lord and had willingly taken upon myself his mark. That I betrayed all I knew to be true, and I had put at risk the only person on this earth I had ever loved, Lily Evans. I pleaded for his mercy and help to save her."

Harry could not have spoken, even if he had wanted to.

"I was ready to betray the Dark Lord and give my life to try and save hers. Dumbledore saw the depth of my remorse and offered me a way to live, and to help save the Potters. I was to become a spy, a double agent if you will. In the end, another person betrayed the Potters and my sacrifice was for naught. Lily was killed anyway. Now, I found myself in a world with no future. Many of my known associates were tried and found guilty; willing confessed to being Voldemort's followers; or live under suspicion and doubt. Dumbledore spoke on my behalf, but no one on either side wanted to dirty their hands with me. No one trusts me, no one is sure which side I am on."

Snape though for a few moments. Harry was just in shock.

"With my options rather … limited, Dumbledore took me under his wing. He offered me the potions professorship at Hogwarts. He gave me the chance to help others who were in positions similar to mine. He wanted me to help others who had hard choices to make. He wanted those who were from affected families to have someone like them at Hogwarts. I don't think I have lived up to all of his desires, but … I am, what I am."

"I wanted you to hear the truth from me. I know it is hard, even painful. But if you had heard it from someone else... well … I want you to know you can trust me. I have …. enjoyed my summer for the first time since my own mother was alive. I may not have been able to save your mother, but I am sure she would have wanted me to help you. And it has been a pleasure, Potter."

It was a few minutes before Harry found the courage and the words to speak.

"Thank you for being honest with me professor. I am sure telling me all of that was as hard for you to say as it was for me to hear."

After a few more minutes of silent pondering on both their parts, it was Harry who spoke next.

"What happens to... us as school?" Harry said softly.

"That is up to you Harry. If you would like, we can go our separate ways with no hard feelings. I would understand. We would simple act as though we had never meet. Or, we can continue our relationship in private. Because many of us, myself included, do not feel we have seen the last of Voldemort. I need to maintain my relationships with the likes of Lucius Malfoy. Under that guise, I cannot, openly, be the guardian of the Boy-who-lived."

"I see," Harry said the pain showing.

"I can, however, give numerous detentions of cauldron scrubbing to insufferable know-it-alls who think because of their fame they are special," he sneered in his way.

Harry couldn't help the little laugh that got away from him.

"I think I can manage that," Harry supplied.

"Really," Snape challenged.

"I'm learning goblin tongue you know. I could insult you in their language."

Snape rolled his eyes.

"You can't even pronounce it," he said knocking down the last of his drink.

"Not yet, but it's not like you'd know anyway."

He pointed at Harry.

"Don't turn into a real know-it-all, or I will make you scrub cauldrons."

Harry sneered at him.

"Ugh, you can not pull that off," he said painfully.

"Are you still not going to tell me what house you were in?" Harry tried again.

"I am not going influence you or that blasted hat!" he said adamitely.

"It was worth one more try," Harry sighed.

They were silent for a few more minutes.

"What if I really need to talk to you?" Harry asked seriously

"Then call for Franny. She can let me know," he said honestly.

"Okay," Harry said pacified.

Harry said thinking for a few minutes, deciding to share something too.

"My mom wrote about you in her letters sometimes."

"She did?" Snape said curious.

"Yes, I think having you there made the transition to the wizarding world easier for her," he offered.

"It made it easier on both of us," Snape mused.

"Did you spend time together over summer?" Harry asked.

"Some," Snapped acknowledged. "Until the Evans moved during fifth year."

"I'm sorry things didn't turn out better for you," Harry said honestly.

"And me you," Snape said resting his head back on the chair.

"Harry," he said.

"Yes," Harry encouraged.

"It is best you learn young: life never turns out the way you think it will."

"Oh, really."

"There always seems … to be something," Snape said with his head back and his eyes closed.

Harry thought for a moment.

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" He asked.

Snape thought for a moment.

"Neither, it's just a thing."

They sat in comfortable silence until Harry fell asleep. He woke up when Snape picked him up to carry him to bed, but he pretended he was still asleep. It felt nice in his arms, and Harry didn't want to ruin it.


	9. Chapter 9 The Hogwarts Express

Chapter 9

The Hogwarts Express

Things went smoothly the next morning. Harry found himself waiting in the sitting room ready to go. His trunk with all his things shrunken and in his bag. Franny had packed him a lunch and he had a set of robes to put on in his bag too. Hedwig had been sent on ahead and Sheila was as invisible as his bracelet and ring. He was pleased when at 10:20 the fireplace sprang to life and Snape stepped through.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

Harry nodded and followed him to the door. Once outside the wards, Snape placed his arm around him and they apparated to a secluded corner of the station and walked out into the hustle and bustle of King's crossing. Snape found a bench, and they sat down.

"See that brick wall," he said pointing discreetly. "Right there between platforms nine and ten."

"Yes," Harry acknowledged.

"You simply walk through it. It is not really there. Let's watch for a few minutes and see if someone will demonstrate."

Snape picked up a Muggle newspaper from the the rubbish bin next to them and pretended to read. In a few minutes a mother and son pushing a trolley looked around and walked right through the wall.

"Just like so," Snape said returning the paper to the bin.

"Do you have any questions?" Snape asked.

"No," Harry said, not really wanting him to go.

"Then I will see you tonight at dinner."

He placed his hand on Harry's shoulder encouragingly. "You will be fine. Find Neville and Hermione."

"I will," Harry assured him.

Snape stood and walked back to where they had come from, and Harry turned to watch the entrance to Platform 9 ¾. Harry expected to see more people going through, but minutes passed, and no one else went through. He stood and started to walk over, the train was scheduled to leave in about ten minutes, and he didn't want to miss it. But, he didn't want to sit around waiting for it to leave either.

At that moment a group of red headed people passed just behind him and he caught a few words of what they were saying.

'- packed with Muggles, of course -"

Harry turned around and discovered the speaker was a plump women who was talking to four boys, all with flaming red hair. Each of them was pushing a trunk, and one of them had an owl.

"Now, what's the platform number?" said the boys' mother.

"Nine and three-quarters!" piped a small girl, also red-headed, who was holding her hand, "Mom, can't I go…"

"You're not old enough, Ginny, now be quiet. All right, Percy, you go first."

What looked like the oldest boy marched toward platforms nine and ten. Harry watched and just as the boy reached the dividing barrier between the two platforms, a large crowd of tourists came swarming in front of him and by the time the last backpack had cleared away, the boy had vanished.

"Fred, you next," the plump woman said.

"I'm not Fred, I'm George," said the boy, and off he went. "Honestly, woman, you call yourself or mother? Can't you tell I'm George?"

"Sorry, George, dear."

"Only joking, I am Fred," said the boy, and off he went. His twin called after him to hurry up, and he must have done so, because a second later, he had gone.

Harry walked up to the family. The youngest boy, who looked his age was about to go.

"Would you mind if we go together," Harry asked trying not to show his nervousness.

"First time at Hogwarts? Ron's new, too."

She pointed to the last and youngest of her sons. He was tall, thin and gangly, with freckles, big hands and feet, and a long nose. He seemed as nervous as Harry felt.

"All you have to do," the women explained, "is walk straight at the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Don't stop and don't be scared you'll crash into it, that's very important. Best do it at a run if you're nervous. Go on now, you can go with Ron since you don't have a trolley."

He stood shoulder to shoulder with Ron and placed his hand on the trolley. They started walking more and more quickly. They were going to smash right into the barrier and then...it didn't happen.

A scarlet steam engine was waiting next to platform packed with people. A sign overhead said Hogwarts Express, eleven o'clock. Harry looked behind him and saw a wrought-iron archway where the barrier had been, with the words Platform Nine and Three-Quarter on it. He had done it.

Smoke from the engine drifted over the heads of the chattering crowd, while cats of every color wound here and there between their legs. Owls hooted to one another in a disgruntled sort of way over the babble and the scraping of heavy trunks.

Harry quickly helped Ron lift his trunk onto the train.

"Where is your trunk?" Ron asked.

"Shrunk down in my backpack," Harry told him.

Ron and Harry, then saw the twins and ran over to lift the back end of their trunks onto the train.

"Thanks, guys," Fred or George said to Harry, as Ron went in search of their mother.

Harry pushed his glasses up on his nose.

"What's that?" One of the twins said suddenly, pointing at Harry's lightning scar.

"Blimey," said the other twin. "Aren't you?" he added to Harry

"What?" said Harry.

"Harry Potter," chorused the twins.

"Oh, him," said Harry. "I mean, yes, I am."

The two boys gawked at him, and Harry felt himself turning red. Then, to his relief, a voice came floating in.

"Fred, George? Are you there?"

"Coming mom."

With a last look at Harry, they went to say goodbye. Harry found an empty compartment and watched all the family interactions. He listened to all the family drama as they said goodbye. It made him wonder, for the first time, if he would have had siblings had things worked out differently.

Harry watched the girl and her mother disappear as the train rounded the corner. He was on his way. Houses flashed past the window. Harry felt a great leap of excitement. He didn't know what he was going to, but he remembered Snape's words from last night. Life never turns out the way you think it will.

The door of the compartment slid open and the youngest red-headed boy came in.

"Anyone sitting there?" he asked, pointing at the seat opposite Harry. "Everywhere else is full."

Harry shook his head. He had thought about going to look for Hermione and Neville, but the twins reaction to him had him glued to his seat. The red-head glanced at Harry and then look quickly out the window, pretending he hadn't looked.

"Hey Ron."

The twins were back.

"Listen, we're going down to the middle of the train - Lee Jordan's got a giant tarantula down there."

"Right," mumbled Ron.

"Harry," said the other twin, "did we introduce ourselves? Fred and George Weasley. And this is Ron, out brother. See you later then."

"Bye," said Harry and Ron. The twins slid the compartment door shut behind them.

"Are you really Harry Potter?" Ron blurted out.

Harry nodded yes

"Oh - well, I thought it might be one of Fred and George's jokes," said Ron. "And do you really got - you know…"

He pointed at Harry's forehead.

Harry parted his bangs to show the lightning scar momentarily.

"So that is where You-Know-Who -?

"Yes," said Harry, "but I don't remember it."

"Nothing?" said Ron eagerly.

"Well - I remember a lot of green light, but nothing else."

"Wow," said Ron. He sat and stared at Harry for a few moments, then as though he had suddenly realized what he was doing, he looked quickly out of the window again.

"Are all of your family wizards?" asked Harry, who found Ron just as interesting as Ron found him.

"Er - yes, I think so," said Ron. "I think mom's got a second cousin who's an accountant, but we never talk about him."

"So you must know loads of magic already."

He was eager to see if what Professor Sintra had told him was true.

"I heard you lived with Muggles," said Ron. "What are they like?"

"They were horrible, though not all Muggles are. Some are really nice, but my Aunt and Uncle hate magic, so they really don't like me. I wish I had three wizard brothers."

"Five," said Ron. For some reason, he was looking gloomy. "I'm the sixth in our family to go to Hogwarts. You could say I've got a lot to live up to. Bill and Charlie have already left - Bill was head boy and Charlie was captain of Quidditch. Now Percy's a prefect. Fred and George mess around a lot, but they still get really good marks, and everyone thinks they're really funny. Everyone expects me to do as well as the others, but if I do, it's no big deal, because they did it first. You never get anything new, either, with five brothers. I've got Bill's old robes, Charlie's old wand, and Percy's old rat."

Ron reached inside his jacket and pulled out a fat gray rat, which was asleep.

"His name is Scabbers, and he's useless, he hardly ever wakes up. Percy got an owl from my dad for being made prefect, but they couldn't aff - I mean, I got Scabbers instead."

Ron's ears went pink. He seemed to think he'd said too much, because he went back to staring out of the window.

Harry didn't think there was anything wrong with not being able to afford an owl. After all, he'd never had any money in his life until a month ago.

"I know kinda what you mean. I had to wear my cousin's hand me downs. The problem is he is like, three times my weight!" Harry said hoping Ron would feel better.

"Really?" Ron said hopefully.

"Yeah, and Dudley, my cousin, bullied me horribly. It was his favorite pastime to make my life horrible."

"Brothers can be like that too sometimes," Ron nodded in agreement.

"First time I ever had anything new was after I got my letter. Found out there was a whole world that could do magic and I knew nothing about it."

"You didn't know," Ron seemed flabbergasted.

"Not a clue," Harry told him honestly. "I knew nothing about my parents, about what had happened to me. I'd never gotten a proper birthday present, or a chance to be me really. I had to told everything about Voldemort by a professor from the school," Harry told him.

Ron gasped.

"What?" Harry questioned.

"You said You-Know-Who's name!" said Ron, sounding both shocked and impressed. "I'd have thought you, of all people -"

"I'm not trying to be brave or anything, saying his name," said Harry, "I just never knew you shouldn't. See what I mean? I've got loads to learn...I bet," he added, voicing something he had been worrying about a lot lately. Snape had warned him it was a large transition and was trying to help him, but…. "I bet I'll do horrible in classes."

"No you won't. There's loads of people who come from Muggle families, and they learn quick enough."

While they had been talking, the train had carried them out of London. Now they were speeding past fields full of cows and sheep. There was a knock at the door and it slid open to reveal Hermione and Neville, holding his toad. Harry smiled.

"There you are, Harry," Hermione said coming in. "Sorry it took us so long to find you. Neville lost Trevor, and it took us forever to find him."

Neville held up the toad, "he likes to runaway."

"Hi guys, come in and sit with us," Harry said making room.

Hermione sat on Harry's side and Ron moved over for Neville.

"Guys this is Ron Weasley," he said motioning to Ron who smiled nervously. "Him and his family helped me get onto the Platform. He's starting this year too, and he's got a rat, Scabbers!"

"Does he run away too?" Neville said sitting back. "It's almost not worth it..almost," Neville said looking at Trevor the toad.

"No, Scabbers just sleeps," Ron said taking him out again to show to Neville. "See."

"He seems rather...overweight," Hermione observed a bit concerned.

Ron nodded in agreement. "It is what happens when all you do is eat and sleep."

The four quickly started talking about their summers and the upcoming school year. Around half past twelve there was a great clattering outside in the corridor and a smiling, dimpled woman slid pack their door and said, "Anything off the cart, dears?"

Neville seemed defeated, Harry doubted his gran ever let him have treats. Hermione was running her tongue over her teeth, already thinking of the cavities she was sure her parents always cautioned her about. Ron's ears went pink, and he reached for his bag to get his lunch, so Harry leapt to his feet. He had never had any money for candy with the Dursley's and Snape's house had been void of anything like this. He looked at the cart, there were no Mars bars, but there were Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, Drooble's Best Blowing Gum, Chocolate Frogs, Pumpkin Pasties, Cauldron Cakes, Licorice Wands, and a number of other strange things Harry had never seen in his life. Not wanting to miss anything, he got some of everything to share and paid the women fourteen silver sickles and ten bronze knuts.

Everyone's eyes became huge when he walked in with his purchase and dumped it into his seat. He then pulled down his backpack and took out the food Franny had sent with him and opened it up. Then he turned to his friends.

"Who knows when we will be able to have fun food again, let's eat and have a good time before we have a new set of rules. For right now, let's not worry about it. I've never had any of these," he said looking at his stash.

Ron pulled out a lumpy package and unwrapped it. There were four lumpy sandwiches.

"Guess I squished them a bit," he said looking at them.

"Is that corned beef," Neville asked obviously wanting some.

"Have one," Ron said offering.

Between what Ron and Harry had, plus the treats Harry purchased they were soon feasting away, talking between bites and trying a bit of everything.

"What are these?" Harry asked Ron, holding up a pack of Chocolate Frogs. "They're not really frogs, are they?" He was starting to feel that nothing would surprise him.

"No," Ron said swallowing. "But see what the card is. I'm missing Agrippa."

"What?" Hermione asked for Harry as he chewed.

"Oh, of course, you two wouldn't know - Chocolate Frogs have cards inside of them, you know to collect - famous witches and wizards. I've got about five hundred at home, but I haven't got Agrippa or Ptolemy."

"I've only got about 20 cards," Neville said opening one himself. "Gran only gets me them at Christmas," he said by way of explanation.

Harry unwrapped his Chocolate Frog and picked up the card. It showed a man's face. He wore half-moon glasses, had a long, crooked nose, and flowing silver hair, beard, and mustache. Underneath the picture was the name Albus Dumbledore.

"So this is Dumbledore!" Harry said and Hermione was quickly looking at him too.

"Don't tell me you have never heard of him!" Ron exclaimed.

"Heard of him,yes," Harry assured him. "Now, I have a face to go with the name."

Ron reached for the pile and took one, "I might get Agrippa-" he shrugged.

Harry turned over the card and read:

ALBUS DUMBLEDORE

CURRENTLY HEADMASTER OF HOGWARTS

Considered by many the greatest wizard of modern times, Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood, and his work on alchemy with is partner, Nicholas Flamel. Professor Dumbledore enjoys chamber music and tenpin bowling.

Harry turned his card back over and saw, to his astonishment, that Dumbledore's face had disappeared.

"He's gone!"

"Well, you can't expect him to hand around all day," said Ron. "He'll be back. No, I've got Morgana again, and I've got about six for her."

"I don't have her," Neville started, "can I have her. I've got Merlin."

"Here," Ron said giving him the card. "I have Merlin already, too."

Ron and Neville eyed the rest of the unopened frogs.

"Help yourself," said Harry to the other two boys. "But in, you know, the Muggle world, people just stay put in photos."

"Really," Neville said shaking his head.

"Do they? What, they don't move at all?" Ron sounded amazed. "Weird!"

Harry looked at Hermione and they seemed to agree it was the other way around which was weird.

"This is really good," Hermione said eating the food Franny had prepared.

Harry agreed and took one the of the sandwiches. As he alternated between Franny's food and the treats, he watched as Dumbledore slid back into the picture on his card and gave him a small smile. Ron seemed far more interest in eating the frogs than looking at the cards. While Neville wanted to examine each and every card. Harry just wanted to see the moving picture, and Hermione was absorbing all the information given on the cards. Soon they had Dumbledore, Morgana, Hengist of Woodcroft, Alberic Grunnion, Citcem Paracelsus, and Merlin. After admiring druidess Cliodna, who was scratching her nose, which Harry thought was beyond funny, he tore open a bag of Bertie Bott's every Flavor Beans.

"You want to be careful with those," Ron warned Harry. "When they say every flavor, they mean every flavor- you know, you get all the ordinary ones like chocolate and peppermint and marmalade, but you can get spinach and liver and tripe. George reckins he had a booger-flavored one once."

Roon picked up a green bean, looked at it carefully, and bit into a corner.

"Bleaargh - see? Sprouts!"

They all had a good time eating the Every Flavor Beans, Harry got toast, coconut, baked bean, strawberry, curry, grass, coffee, sardine, and was even brave enough to nibble the end off a funny gray one Ron would not touch, it turned out to be pepper. Neville sadly, got a puke flavored one and nearly lost his corned beef sandwich. Ron handed him a frog quick enough, and a crisis was averted. Hermione would not touch them after that.

The countryside now flying by their window was becoming wilder. The neat fields were gone. Now there were woods, twisting rivers, and dark green hills.

Satisfied with their extensive lunch, Hermione started to clean up all the wrappers and put them in an empty bag. The boys started helping and soon the cabin was right again. Hermione pulled a small book from her robes and started to read. Neville panicked again, until he found his toad under the bench, not beside him where he had left it.

"Is there a spell in there to keep Trevor from running away?" Neville asked her.

"Well," Hermione said thinking. "I haven't come across one like that. Is it not customary to keep him in a tank or a cage of some kind?" she inquired.

"He gets out of those too," Neville told her.

"Well, I read about a homing spell, but it is too advanced for me," she admitted.

"You've done spells?" Harry asked now very interested.

"Yes," Hermione admitted, "but only very basic ones."

"My brothers told me one to turn Scabbers yellow. I tried it yesterday, but it didn't work," Ron said annoyed. "I think they were tricking me again."

"Try it again now," Harry asked.

Ron rummaged around in his trunk and pulled out a very battered-looking wand. It was chipped in places and something white was glinting at the end.

"Unicorn hair's nearly poking out. Anyway-" he said turning toward Scabbers.

Ron cleared his throat.

"Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, turn this stupid fat rat yellow."

He waved his wand, but nothing happened. Scabbers stayed gray and fast asleep. Ron sighed and sat down.

"See told you they were tricking me again," Ron said grumpily.

"Are you sure that's a real spell?" Hermione asked.

"No," Ron said.

"I've tried a few simple spells, just for practice, and it's all worked for me. Nobody in my family is magic, that I know of anyway." Hermione said. "So, I just really wanted to make sure I could do it, before I got on a train to a magical school." She seemed a little afraid admitting it.

"Show us something," Neville asked pretty excited.

Hermione looked around and took a torn wrapper out of the bag of trash and placed it on the floor.

"Papel Reparo," she stated plainly while pointing her wand at the paper.

They all watched in amazement as the torn ends of the paper knitted themselves back together. It worked, and she smiled.

"I thought it might come in handy if I tore a homework assignment, or a page in a library book," she fessed up to the boys.

They all looked at her with a bit of amazement.

"You guys want to try it?" She asked them looking for more bits of torn paper to mend.

Instantly Harry and Neville were digging for their wands and all three boys were aiming at the little pieces of paper. All smiles and laughing, they all had the spell mastered in a matter of minutes. Harry breathed a sigh of relief, he could do magic with a wand, oh, happy day.

"What do wizard's do once they have finished at Hogwarts," Hermione asked Ron and Neville. "Muggles go on to University, to study more specific fields."

"My older brother Charlie is in Romania studying dragons. Bill the oldest of us, he's in Africa doing something for Gringotts," Ron said. "Did you hear about Gringotts? It's been all over the Daily Prophet, but I don't suppose you get that with the Muggles - someone tried to rob a high security vault."

Harry and Hermione were surprised, and their faces showed it.

"Really? What happened to them?" Harry asked sure they were killed trying to get away.

"Nothing, that's why it is such big news. They haven't been caught."

"You're joking," Harry could not believe it.

"My dad said it must've been a powerful Dark wizard to get round Gringotts, but they don't think they took anything, that's what's odd. 'Course, everyone gets scared when something like this happens in case You-Know-Who's behind it."

They all sat back to think as Harry turned this news over in his mind. He was starting to get a prickle of fear every time Voldemort came up. He supposed this was all part of the entering the magical world, but it had been a lot more comfortable with Snape. He didn't seem to have the same fear of Voldemort's name as everyone else.

Ron must have felt he need to cheer up the crowd.

"Hey Neville," he asked. "What's your Quidditch team?"

"Oh, sorry. I don't really follow Quidditch," Neville admitted. "Gran doesn't approve. I tried to explain to Harry and Hermione in Diagon Alley when we saw the shop and the brooms. But I don't think I did a very good job," Neville shrugged.

"Oh, you wait, it's the best game in the world-' and he was off, explaining all about the four balls and the positions of the seven players, describing famous games he'd been to with his brothers and the broomsticks he'd like to get if he had the money. He was just talking to Harry, (Hermione had gone back to her book some time ago) through the finer points of the game when the compartment door slid open.

Three boys entered, and Harry recognized the middle one at once: it was the pale boy, Draco Malfoy he had seen at the dicey shop where they purchased Sheila. He was looking at Harry with much more interest than Harry was comfortable receiving.

"Is it true?" he said. "They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment. So it's you, is it?"

"Yes," said Harry. He was looking at the other boys. Both of then were thickset and looked extremely mean. They took up positions on either side of the pale boy, they almost seemed to be bodyguards.

"Oh, this Crabbe and this is Goyle," said Draco carelessly, noticing where Harry was looking. "And my name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."

Ron gave a slight cough, which might have been hiding a snigger. Draco malfoy looked at him.

"Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford."

He turned back to Harry. "You'll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there."

Harry remembered Draco's father all to well, and the conversation he had had with Snape one night about pure bloods and what they believed. It made him sick to think people would treat others in such a way. Draco held out his hand to shake Harry's, but Harry didn't take it.

"I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks," he said coolly.

Draco Malfoy didn't go red. But a pink tinge appeared in his pale cheeks.

"I'd be careful if I were you, Potter," he said slowly. "Unless you're a bit politer you'll go the same way as your parents. They didn't know what was good for them, either. You hang around with riffraff like the Weasleys, and these," he said motioning to Hermione and Neville, who was looking at the floor, "and it will rub off on you."

Harry and Ron stood up. Hermione and Neville soon followed. Harry could feel the magic surging in him and the warmth on his wrist as the bracelet kept things under control.

"Say that again," Ron said, his face as red as his hair.

"Oh, you're going to fight us, are you?" Malfoy sneered.

"Unless you get out now, yes," Harry said looking at him intently. Harry seemed braver than he felt, but the power was surging and he was willing to use it if needs be. Crabbe and Goyle may be big, but he was fast.

"But we don't feel like leaving, do we, boys? We've eaten all out food and you still seem to have some."

Goyle reached toward the Chocolate Frog next to Ron - Ron leapt forward, but before he'd so much as touched Goyle, Goyle let out a horrible yell.

Scabbers the rat was hanging off his finger, sharp little teeth sunk deep into Goyle's knuckle - Crabbe and Malfoy backed away as Goyle swung Scabbers round and round, howling, and when Scabbers finally flew off toward the window Harry reached out and wished the rat to his hand. It was only a few inches and it simply looked like he reached the rat in time. By the time Harry looked again all three of the boys were gone.

Harry handed Ron his rat. "I think he's okay," Harry said looking at he rat.

"Have you meet him before," Ron asked.

"No," Harry said. "But I know the type. Muggle or wizard makes no difference."

"You two better get your robes on," Hermione said looking out the door. "It looks like we are getting close. We don't want to get in trouble for fighting before we even get to the school."

"Scabbers has been doing the fighting not us," Ron said. "Mind stepping out," he said to Hermione.

"No problem," she agreed. "I need to go and fetch my things from the other compartment. Coming to get your things Neville?" she asked.

"Right," Neville said getting Trevor from his hiding spot under the bench.

Harry and Ron took off their jackets and pulled on their long black robes. Ron's were a bit short for him, you could see his sneakers underneath them.

A voice echoed through the train: "We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately."

Harry took out his trunk and enlarged it.

"Wicked," Ron said.

"The trunk was in my vault," Harry told him. "It's cool," he said throwing his backpack and the unopened sweets into the top. He made sure his wand was in its place with him, hat on his head.

"Do I look right?" Harry asked Ron.

"Yep, me?" Ron asked back.

Harry nodded. Then he made sure everything was in his trunk and that it was locked. Ron looked about as nervous as he felt.

The train slowed right down and finally stopped. People pushed their way toward the door. Hermione and Neville finally found them again and the four stepped out onto a tiny, dark platform. Harry shivered in the cold night air. Then a lamp came bobbing over the heads of the students, and Harry heard a loud booming voice:

"Firs' years! Firs' years over here!"

The four of them joined by many others made their way over to a giant of a man.

"Who, what is that?" someone in the group said softly as they jointly moved toward it.

"I'm Hagrid, keeper of grounds and keys at Hogwarts. C'mon, follow me - any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me?"

Slipping and stumbling, they followed Hagrid down what seemed to be a steep, narrow path. It was so dark on either side of them Harry thought there must be thick trees there. Nobody spoke much, and Neville seemed to be so close to Ron, Harry was worried he was going to trip Ron in his fright.

"Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," Hagrid called over his shoulder, 'jus' round this bend here."

There was a loud "Oooooh!"

The narrow path had opened suddenly onto the edge of a great black lake. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, it's windows sparkling in the starry sky, was a vast castle with many turrets and towers.

"No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid called, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore. Harry and Ron were followed into their boat by Neville and Hermione. The four sat in silence staring at the castle in all of its nightly glory.

"Everyone in?" shouted Hagrid, who had a boat to himself, "Right then - FORWARD!"

And the fleet of little boats moved off all at once, gliding across the lake, which was as smooth as glass. Everyone was silent, staring up at the great castle overhead. It towered over them as they sailed nearer and nearer to the cliff on which it stood.

"Heads down!" yelled Hagrid as the first boats reached the cliff they all bent their heads, and the little boats carried them through a certain of ivy which hid a wide opening in the cliff face. They were carried along a dark tunnel, which seemed to taking them right underneath the castle, until they reached a kind of underground harbor, where they clambered out onto rocks and pebbles.

"Oy, you there! Is this your toad?" said Hagrid, who was checking the boats as people climbed out of them.

"Trevor!" cried Neville blissfully, holding out his hands. Then they clambered up a passageway in the rock after Hagrid's lamp, coming out at last onto smooth, damp grass right in the shadow of the castle.

They walked walked up a flight of stone steps and crowded around the huge, oak front door.

"Everyone here? You there, still got yer toad?"

Hagrid raised a gigantic fist and knocked three times on the castle door.


	10. Chapter 10 The Sorting Hat

Chapter 10

The Sorting Hat

The door swung open at once. A tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes stood there. She had a very stern face and Harry's first thought was this was not someone to cross.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," said Hagrid.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."

She pulled the door wide. The entrance hall was so big you could have fit the whole of the Dursleys' house in it. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches like the ones at Gringotts, the ceiling was too high to make out, and a magnificent marble staircase facing them led to the upper floors.

They followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. Harry could hear the drone of hundreds of voices from a doorway to the right - the rest of the school must already be here - but Professor McGonagall showed the first years into a small, empty chamber off the hall. They crowded in, standing rather closer together than they would usually have done, peering around nervously.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room.

"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own notable history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rulebreaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."

Her eyes lingered for a moment on Neville's cloak, which was fastened under his left ear, and the smudge of chocolate on Ron's face. Hermione and Harry quickly helped their friends straighten up as others did the same. Harry nervously tried to flatten his hair.

"I shall return when we are ready for you," said Professor McGonagall. "Please wait quietly."

She left the chamber and Harry swallowed.

"How exactly are we sorted?" Hermione asked.

"Some sort of test, I think. Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking."

"I know it has something to do with a hat," Harry shrugged.

Harry's heart gave a horrible jolt. A test? In front of the whole school? He didn't know any real magic yet, fixing a torn piece of paper was not going to impress anyone. He looked around anxiously and saw that everyone else looked terrified too. No one was talking much with the exception of Hermione near his side. She seemed to reviewing all the books she had studied that might be on the test. Harry tried not to listen to her. He'd never been more nervous and the warmth on his wrist was a testament to this. He once again thanked his ancestors for the bracelet and happy he would not be doing any accidental magic this time. He kept his eyes fixed on the door. Any second now, Professor McGonagall would come back and lead him to his doom.

Then something happened that made him jump about a foot in the air - several people behind him screamed.

"What the -?"

He gasped. So did the people around him. About twenty ghosts had just streamed through the back wall. Pearly-white and slightly transparent, they glided across the room talking to one another and hardly glancing at the first years. They seemed to be arguing. What looked like a fat monk was saying: "Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance -"

"My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chance he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost - I say, what are you all doing here?"

A ghost wearing a riff and tights had suddenly noticed the first years.

Nobody answered.

"New students!" said the Fat Friar, smiling around at them, "About to be Sorted, I suppose?"

A few people nodded mutely.

"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" said the Friar. "My old house you know."

"Move along now," said a sharp voice. "The Sorting Ceremony is about to start."

Professor McGonagall had returned. One by one, the ghosts floated away through the opposite wall.

"Now, form a line," Professor McGonagall told the first years, "and follow me."

Feeling oddly as if his legs had turned to lead, Harry got into line behind a boy with sandy hair, with Ron behind him, then Neville. Harry did not see where Hermione ended up. The walked out of the chamber, back across the hall, and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall.

Harry had never imagined such a strange and splendid place. It was lit by thousands and thousands of candles that were floating in midair over four long tables, where the rest of the students were sitting. These tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the top of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting. Harry quickly located Snape, who seemed stoic. Professor McGonagall led the first years up close to the teachers, so they came to halt in line facing the other students, with the teachers behind them. The hundred of faces staring at them looked like pale lanterns in the flickering candlelight. Dotted here and there among the students, the ghosts shone misty silver. Mainly to avoid all the staring eyes, Harry looked upward and saw a velvety black ceiling dotted with stars. He heard Hermione whisper, "It's bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in _Hogwarts, A History._ "

It was hard to believe there was a ceiling there at all, and that the Great Hall didn't simply open up to the heavens.

Harry quickly looked down again as Professor McGonagall silently placed a four-legged stool in front of the first years. On top of the stool she put a pointed wizard's hat. This hat was patched and frayed and extremely dirty. Aunt Petunia would not have let it in the house.

Maybe they had to try and get a rabbit out of it, Harry thought. Everyone was looking at the hat, so he stared at it too. For a few seconds there was complete silence, then the hat twitched. A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth - and the hat began to sing:

" _Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,_

 _But don't judge on what you see,_

 _I'll eat myself if you can find_

 _A smarter hat than me._

 _You can keep your bowlers black,_

 _Your top hats sleek and tall,_

 _For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat_

 _And I can cap them all._

 _There's nothing hidden in your head_

 _The Sorting Hat can't see,_

 _So try me on and I will tell you_

 _Where you ought to be._

 _You might belong in Gryffindor,_

 _Where dwell the brave at heart,_

 _Their daring, nerve and chivalry_

 _Set Gryffindors apart;_

 _You might belong in Hufflepuff,_

 _Where they are just and loyal,_

 _Those patient Hufflepuffs are true_

 _And unafraid of toil;_

 _Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,_

 _If you've a ready mind,_

 _Where those of wit and learning,_

 _Will always find their kind;_

 _Or perhaps in Slytherin_

 _You'll make your real friends,_

 _Those cunning folk use any means_

 _To achieve their ends._

 _So put me on! Don't be afraid!_

 _And don't get in a flap!_

 _You're in safe hands (though I have none)_

 _For I'm a Thinking Cap!"_

The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four tables and then became quite still again.

"So we've just got to try on the hat!" Ron whispered to Harry. "I'll kill Fred, he was going on about wrestling a troll!"

Harry smiled weakly. Yes, trying on the hat was a lot better than having to do a spell, but he did wish they could have tried it one without everyone watching. The hat seemed to be asking rather a lot; Harry didn't feel brave or quick-witted or any of it at the moment. If only the hat had mentioned a house for people who felt a bit queasy, that would be the one for him.

Professor McGonagall now stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said. "Abbott, Hannah!"

A pink faced girl with blond pigtails stumbled out of line, put on the hat which fell right down over her eyes, and sat down. A moment's pause -

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat.

The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table. Harry saw the ghost of the Fat Friar waving merrily at her.

"Bones, Susan!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat again, and Susan scuttled of to sit next to Hannah.

"Boot, Terry!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

The table second from the left clapped this time; several Ravenclaws stood up to shake hands with Terry as he joined them.

"Brocklehurst, Mandy" went to Ravenclaw too, but "Brown, Lavender" became the first new Gryffindor, and the table on the far left exploded with cheers; Harry could see Ron's twin brothers catcalling.

"Bulstrode, Millicent" then become a Slytherin. Perhaps it was Harry's imagination, after what he had hear about Slytherin, but he thought they looked an unpleasant lot.

He was starting to feel definitely sick now. He remembered being picked for teams during gym at his old school. He had always been the last to be chosen, not because he was no good, but because no one wanted Dudley to think they liked him.

"Finch-Fletchley, Justin!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Sometimes, Harry noticed, the hat shouted out the house at once, but at others it took a little while to decide. "Finnigan, Seamus," the sandy-colored boy next to Harry in line, sat on the stool for almost a whole minute before the hat declared him a Gryffindor.

"Granger, Hermione!"

Hermione almost ran to the stool and jammed the hat eagerly on her head.

"GRYFFINDOR!" shouted the hat, and Ron groaned a little.

A horrible thought struck Harry, as horrible thoughts always do when you're very nervous. What if he wasn't chosen at all? What if he just saw there with the hat over his eyes for ages, until Professor McGonagall jerked it off his head and said there had obviously been a mistake and he'd better get back on the train?

When Neville Longbottom, was call, he fell over on his way to the stool. The hat took a long time with Neville, and Neville seemed to fidget under the hat. When it finally shouted, "GRYFFINDOR," Neville ran off with it still on his head and had to job back amid gales of laughter to give it to "MacGougal, Morag."

Malfoy swaggered forward when his name was called and got his wish at once: the hat had barely touched his head when it screamed, "SLYTHERIN!"

Malfoy went to join his friends Crabbe and Goyle, looking pleased with himself. Harry was liking that house less and less.

There weren't many people left now.

"Moon"..., "Nott"..., "Parkinson"..., then a pair of twin girls, "Patil"..., and "Patil" then "Perks, Sally-Anne" …, and then at last -

"Potter, Harry!"

As Harry stepped forward, whispers suddenly broke out like little hissing fires all over the hall.

"Potter, did she say?"

"The Harry Potter?"

The last thing Harry saw before the hat dropped over his eyes was the hall full of people craning to get a good look at him. The next second he was looking at the black inside of the hat. He waited.

"Hmm," said a small voice in his ear. "Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There's talent, oh my goodness, yes - and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that is interesting …. So where I shall I put you?

Harry gripped the edges of the stool and thought, not Slytherin, not Slytherin.

"Not Slytherin, eh?" said the small voice. "Are you sure? You could be great you know, it's all here in your head, and Slytherin will help you on your way to greatness, no doubt about that.

"You can hear what I think," Harry thought. "Then what is difficult about me. Why do people keep saying that about me? Is there something wrong?"

"We are our choices, you have many choice ahead."

"But I didn't choose to lose my parents, or destroy Voldemort and that is all everyone can see in me," Harry hurriedly said hoping to get some answers.

"Those were their choices. It is now your choice. What you chose to do with all they each have given you. They have given you more than you think. If you don't want Slytherin - better be GRYFFINDOR!"

Harry heard the hat shout the last word to the whole hall. He took off the hat and walked unsteadily toward the Gryffindor table. He was so relieved to have been chosen and not put in Slytherin, he hardly noticed he was getting the loudest cheer yet. He was also thinking about what the hat had said. Did it know things about him he didn't. Percy the Prefect got up and shook his hand vigorously, while the Weasley twins yelled. "We got Potter! We got Potter!" Harry sat down opposite the ghost in the ruff he'd seen earlier. Still in a daze from what the hat had said. The ghost patted his arm, giving Harry the sudden, horrible feeling he's just plunged it into a bucket of ice-cold water. He swallowed, this place was weird.

He could see the High Table properly now. At the end nearest him sat Hagrid, who caught his eye and gave him a thumbs up for some reason. And there, in the center of the High Table, in a large gold chair, sat Albus Dumbledore. Harry recognized him at once from the card he'd gotten out of the Chocolate Frog on the train. Dumbledore's silver hair was the only thing in the whole hall that shone as brightly as the ghosts. The chair to his right was empty, Harry guessed it was Professor McGonagall's since she was down with the first years. Harry spotted an odd Professor in a large purple turbin who seemed young and nervous. There was also a tiny wizard with goblin like features who made Harry wonder if it was possible for humans and goblins to have children. Then there was Snape who was watching the Sortings, not looking at Harry.

When Harry finally returned his attention to the sorting there were only four people left to be sorted. "Thomas, Dean" a black boy even taller than Ron, joined Harry at the Gryffindor table. "Turpin, Lisa," became a Ravenclaw and then it was Ron's turn. He was pale green by now. Harry crossed his fingers under the table and a second later the hat shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Harry clapped loudly with the rest as Ron collapsed into the bench next to him.

"Well done, Ron, excellent," said Percy Weasley pompously across Harry as "Zabini, Blase," was made a Slytherin. Professor McGonagall rolled up her scroll and took the Sorting Hat and stool away.

Harry looked down at his empty gold plate. He had only just realized how hungry he was. The food on the train seemed ages ago.

Albus Dumbledore had gotten to his feet, He was beaming at the students, his arms opened wide, as if nothing could have pleased him more than to see them all there.

"Welcome!" he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!

"Thank you!"

He sat back down. Everybody clapped and cheered. Harry didn't know whether to laugh or not.

"Is he - a bit mad?" Harry leaned forward and asked Percy. Hermione leaned forward to hear the answer too, it was obvious she was wondering the same thing.

"Mad" said Percy airily. "He's a genius! Best wizard in the world! But he can act a bit mad, yes. Potatoes Harry?"

Harry's mouth fell open. The dishes in front of him were now piled with food. He had never seen so many things he like to eat on one table: roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops and lamb chops, sausages, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, fries, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup, and, for some strange reason, peppermint humbugs.

"That does look good," said the ghost in the ruff sadly, watching Harry cut up his steak.

"Can't you - ?"

"I haven't eaten for nearly four hundred years," said the ghost. "I don't need to, of course, but one does miss it. I don't think I've introduced myself? Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington at your service. Resident ghost of Gryffindor Tower."

Ron's eyes got big, but his mouth was full, so Harry got his response in first.

"I am Harry Potter, he is Ron, Hermione, Neville, and Seamus, if I remember correctly." Those were all the people whose names Harry could remember at this point. "It is our pleasure to meet you," Harry said for them. "I hope we can be good friends for many years to come."

"I've heard of you," Ron was finally able to say. "My brothers told me about you...they called you Nearly Headless Nick, right?

"I would prefer you call me Sir Nicholas de Mimsy -" then Seamus interrupted.

"Nearly headless? How can you be nearly headless?"

Sir Nicholas looked extremely miffed, as if their little chat wasn't going at all the way he wanted.

"Like this," he said irritably. He seized his left war and pulled. His whole head swung off his neck and fell onto his shoulder as if it was on a hinge. Someone had obviously tried to behead him, but not done it properly. Looking pleased at the stunned looks on their faces. Hermione sat down her fork and pushed her plate back slightly having lost her appetite. Nearly Headless Nick flipped his head back onto his neck, coughed, and said. "So - new Gryffindors! I hope you're going to help us win the house championship this year? Gryffindors have never gone so long without winning. Slytherins have got the cup six years in a row! The Bloody Baron's becoming almost unbearable - he's the Slytherin ghost."

Harry looked over at the Slytherin table and saw a horrible ghost sitting there, with blank staring eyes, a gaunt face, and robes stained with silver blood. He was right next to malfoy wo, Harry was please to see, didn't look to pleased with the seating arrangements.

"How did he get covered in blood?" asked Seamus with great interest.

"I've never asked," said Sir Nicholas delicately.

When everyone had eaten as much as they could, the remains of the food faded from the plates, leaving them sparkling clean as before. A moment later the desserts appeared. Blocks of ice cream in every flavor you could think of, apple pies, treacle tarts, chocolate eclairs and han doughnuts, trifle, strawberries, Jell-O, rice pudding…

As Harry helped himself to a treacle tart, he noticed that Hermione had found her appetite again, too. Neville and Ron were going at the desserts with the same gusto as dinner and there was a smile on every face he looked at. The talked then turned to families.

"I'm half and half," said Seamus. "Me dad's a Muggle. Mom didn't tell him she was a witch 'til after they were married. Bit of a nasty shock for him when he found out!"

The others laughed.

"What about you, Neville?" Ron asked.

"Well, my gran brought me up and she's a witch," said Neville, "but the family thought I was all Muggle for ages. My Great Uncle Algie kept trying to catch me off my guard and force some magic out of me - he pushed me off the end of Blackpool pier one time, I nearly drowned - but nothing happened until I was eight. Great Uncle Algie came round for dinner, and he was hanging me out of an upstairs window by the ankles when my Great Auntie Enid offered him a meringue and he accidentally let go. I bounced - all the way down the garden and into the road. They were all real pleased, Gran was crying, she was so happy. And you should have seen their faces when I got in here - they thought I might not be magic enough to come, you see. Great Uncle Algie was so please he made my gran let me get a pet, my toad!"

On Harry's other side, Percy Weasley and Hermione were talking about lessons ("I do hope they start right away, there's so much to learn. I'm particularly interested in Transfiguration, you know, turning something into something else, of course. It is supposed to be very difficult -"; "You'll be starting small, just matches into needles and that sort of thing -").

Harry, who was starting to feel warm and sleepy, looked up at the High Table again. Hagrid was drinking deeply from his massive goblet. Professor McGonagall was talking to Professor Dumbledore. Professor Snape was talking to the nervous professor in the purple turban.

Then a few things happened all at once, very suddenly. His bracelet became very hot and his scar felt like it was on fire. Sheila hissed softly in warning as Harry's hand clapped onto his head. Then it was over as suddenly as it came.

"What is it?" asked Percy.

"N-nothing," Harry assured him.

It was odd, Harry glanced up at the table again and Snape and the other professor were looking at him oddly. Harry turned back to his plate.

"Who is the teacher talking to Professor Snape?" he asked Percy.

"Hum, that must be Professor Quirrell, I think it is this year. He's the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Probably trying to get lesson plans from Professor Snape, he knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, maybe he's even after the job," Percy shrugged.

Harry watched Snape and Quirrell for a while, but neither one of them seemed to look his way again.

At last the desserts too disappeared, and Professor Dumbledore got to his feet again. The hall fell silent.

"Ahem-just a few more words now that we are fed and watered. I have a few start of term notices to give you.

"First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well."

Dumbledore's twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of the Weasley twins.

"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors.

"Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch.

"And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

Harry laughed a little and then noticed that not many others were laughing.

"He's not serious?" he muttered to Percy.

"Must be," said Percy, frowning at Dumbledore. "It's odd because he usually gives us a reason why we're not allowed to go somewhere - the forest's full of dangerous beasts, everyone know that. I do think he might have told us prefects, at least."

"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" cried Dumbledore. Harry noticed the other teachers did not seemed so pleased with this last request.

Dumbledore gave a flick of his wand, as if he were trying to get a fly off the end, and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, which rose high above the tables and twisted itself, snakelike, into words.

"Everyone pick their favorite tune," said Dumbledore, "and off we go!"

And the school bellowed:

 _Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,_ _Teach us something please,_ _Whether we be old and bald_ _Or young with scabby knees,_ _Our heads could do with filling_ _With some interesting stuff,_ _For now they're bare and full of air,_ _Dead flies and bits of fluff,_ _So teach us things worth knowing,_ _Bring back what we've forgot,_ _Just do your best, we'll do the rest,_ _And learn until our brains all rot._

Everyone finished the song at different times. At last, only the Weasley twins were left singing along to a very slow funeral march. Dumbledore conducted their last few lines with his wand and when they had finished, he was one of those who clapped the loudest.

"Ah, music," he said wiping his eyes. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"

The Gryffindor first years followed Percy through the chattering crowds, out of the Great Hall, and up the marble staircase. Harry's legs were like lead again, but only because he was so tired and full of food. He was too sleepy even to be surprised that the people in the portraits along the corridors whispered and pointed as they passed, or that twice Percy led them through doorways hidden behind sliding panels and hanging tapestries. They climbed more staircases, yawning and dragging their feet, and Harry was just wondering how much father they had to go when they came to a sudden halt.

A bundle of walking sticks was floating in midair ahead of them, and as Percy took a step toward them they started throwing themselves at him.

"Peeves," Percy whispered to the first years. "A poltergeist." He raised his voice, "Peeves - show yourself!"

A loud, rude sound, like the air being let out of a balloon, answered.

"Do you want me to go get the Bloody Baron?"

There was a pop, and a little man with wicked, dark eyes and a wide mouth appeared, floating cross-legged in the air, clutching the walking sticks.

"Oooooooh!" he said, with an evil cackle. "Ickle Firsties! What fun!"

He swooped suddenly at them. They all ducked.

"Go away, Peeves, or the Baron'll hear about this, I mean it!" barked Percy.

Peeves stuck out his tongue and vanished, dropping the walking sticks on Neville's head. They heard him zooming away, rattling coats of armor as he passed.

"You will want to watch out for Peeves," said Percy. As they set off again. "The Bloody Baron's the only one who can control him, he won't even listen to us prefects. Here we are."

At the end of the corridor hung a portrait of a very fat woman in a pink silk dress.

"Password?" she said or rather sung.

"Caput Draconis," said Percy, and the portrait swung forward to reveal a round hole in the wall. They all scrambled through it - Neville needed a leg up - and found themselves in the Gryffindor common room, a cozy, round room full of squashy armchairs.

Percy directed the girls through one door to their dormitory and the boys through another. At the top of a spiral staircase - they were obviously in one of the towers - they found their beds at last: five four-poster beds all hung with deep red, velvet curtains. Their trunks had already been brought up. Too tired to talk much, Harry quickly found and pulled on his pajamas and fell into bed. He knew instantly that Franny had been there and was ever so grateful.

"Great food, isn't it?" Ron muttered to Harry through the hangings. "Get off Scabbers! He's chewing my sheets."

Harry was going to say something, but sleep took him first.

Perhaps Harry has eaten too much, because he had a very strange dream. He was wearing Professor Quirrell's turban, which kept talking to him, telling him he must transfer to Slytherin at once, because it was his destiny. Harry told the turban he didn't want to be in Slytherin; it got heavier and heavier; he tried to pull it off but it tightened painfully - and then there was Malfoy turning into professor Snape, whose laugh become high and cold - there was a burst of green light and Harry woke up, sweating and shaking. He felt prickly all over, and his bracelet was warm. He remembered he had failed to do his mental homework. He sat up and cleared his mind and took himself to his pillar. He noticed the black box next to it was slightly opened and some of the prickly magic had gotten out. He return the bad magic, repaired the box, and then made another slightly bigger box which was extra strong. He put the old box in the new box and sealed it shut!

He laid down on his pillow and whispered.

*Sheila, you awake?*

*Yesss, bad magic woke me,* she answered.

*It got out of its box somehow. I will have to ask Professor Sintra about it. Maybe it isss all the magic in thisss ssschool.*

*Yesss, much magic here and many magical beingsss. Ssso many,* she noted.

*Do you like it ssso far?*

*Yesss,* she answered *I am sssure you will learn well.*

*Thanksss,* Harry have said as he fell back to sleep making the mental know to make sure he continued working in his mindscape each day.


	11. Chapter 11 The Potions Master

Chapter 11

The Potions Master

The next morning they were up and getting dressed. They were told by Percy they would be receiving their schedules at breakfast. If they had any questions they were to ask for help, it could be hard to locate some of the classrooms. Also, they were to make it class on time, teachers did not like it when students were late. Breakfast started in fifteen minutes.

Soon the five boys were making their way to the Great Hall to get breakfast and their schedules.

"There look."

"Where?"

"Next to the tall kid with the red hair."

"Wearing the glasses?"

"Did you see his face?"

"Did you see his scar?"

Whispers followed Harry all the way to the Great Hall so, by the time they arrived at the table he was self-conscious and annoyed. He dropped his bag onto the floor at his feet and slammed some food onto his plate.

"Easy there Harry," Neville warned as he sat on one side and Ron on the other. It was like they both subconsciously agreed to protect him for all the gawking students.

Harry exhaled and started to slowly eat while keeping his head down. Great, even here he had to deal with something. He was hoping to fit in here, not find another reason to be different. Everyone seemed to settle down when four Professors walked in carrying scrolls. Harry watched as Snape walked over to the Slytherin table and started handing out the scrolls. Professor McGonagall walked toward them. Did that mean she was their Head of House? Did that mean….Snape was the Head of House for Slytherin? And he didn't tell Harry….because… he didn't want him to be sorted into Slytherin? Harry remembered all the things he had thought about Slytherin. Hadn't Snape told him that he didn't want to influence him.

A scroll was touching him on the shoulder. He looked up to see Professor McGonagall there trying to hand him his schedule. He took it and smiled at her and she moved on. He unrolled it and looked at the his schedule. He was looking to see when he would have potions, not until Friday. He sighed, he didn't know if he could wait that long to see Snape.

A few minutes later, at Hermione's insistence, the Gryffindor first years made their way towards their first class, it was a good thing they left early. There were a hundred and forty-two staircases at Hogwarts: wide, sweeping ones; narrow, rickey ones; some that led somewhere different on Fridays; some with a vanishing step halfway up that you had to remember to jump. Then there were doors that wouldn't open unless you asked politely, or tickled them in exactly the right place, and doors that really weren't doors at all, but solid walls just pretending. It was also very hard to remember where anything was, because it all seemed to move around a lot. The people in the portraits kept going to visit each other, and Harry was certain the coats of armor could walk.

The ghosts didn't help, either. It was always a nasty shock when one of them gilded suddenly through a door you were trying to open. Sir Nicholas, was always happy to point new Gryffindors in the right direction, but Peeves was worth two locked doors and a trick staircase of you met him when you were late for class. He would drop wastepaper baskets on your head, pull rugs from under your feet, pelt you with bits of chalk, or sneak up behind you, invisible, grab your nose, and screech, "GOT YOUR CONK!"

Even worse than Peeves, if that was possible, was the caretaker, Argus Filch. Harry and Ron managed to get on the wrong side of him on their very first morning between classes. Filch found then trying to force their way through a door that unluckily turned out to be the entrance to the out-of-bounds corridor on the third floor. He wouldn't believe they were lost, was sure they they were trying to break into it on purpose, and was threatening to lock them in the dungeons when they were rescued by Professor Quirrell, who was passing.

Filch owned a cat called Mrs. Norris, a scrawny, dust-colored creature with bulging, lamp like eyes just like Filch's. She patrolled the corridors alone. Break a rule in front of her, put just one toe out of line, and she'd swhish off for Filch, who'd appear, wheezing, two seconds later. Filch new the secret passageways of the school better than anyone (except perhaps the Weasley twins) and could pop up as suddenly as any of the ghosts. The students all hated him, and it was the dearest ambition of many to give Mrs. Norris a good kick.

And then, once you had managed to find them, there were the classes themselves. There was a lot more to magic, as Harry quickly found out, than waving your wand and saying a few funny words.

They had to study the night skies through their telescopes every Wednesday at midnight and learn the names of different stars and the movements of the planets. Three times a week they went out to the greenhouses behind the castle to study Herbology, with a dumpy little witch called Professor Sprout, where they learned how to take care of all the strange plants and fungi, and found out what they were used for.

Easily the most boring class was History of Magic, which was the only one taught by a ghost. Professor Binns had been very old indeed when he had fallen asleep in front of the staff room for and got up the next morning to teach, leaving his body behind him. Binns droned on and on while they scribbled down names and dates, and got Emeric the Evil and Uric the Oddball mixed up.

Professor Flitwick, the Charms Professor, was the tiny little wizard that reminded Harry of the Goblins. He had to stand on a pile of books to see over his desk. At the start of their first class he took the roll call, when he reached Harry's name he gave an excited squeak and toppled out of sight. Harry shrunk down in his chair wanting to hide.

Professor McGonagall was again different. Harry had been quite right to think she wasn't a teacher to cross. Strict and clever, she gave them a talking to the moment they sat down in her first class.

"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts," she said. "Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."

Then she changed her desk into a pig and back again! They were all very impressed and couldn't wait to get started, but soon realized they weren't going to be changing furniture into animals for a long time. After taking a lot of complicated notes, they were each given a match and started trying to turn it into a needle. By the end of the lesson, only Hermione Granger had made any difference to her match; Professor McGonagall showed the class how it had turned all silver and pointy and gave Hermione a rare smile.

The class everyone had really been looking forward to was Defense Against the Dark Arts (DADA), but Quirrell's lessons turned out to be a bit of a joke. His classroom smelled strongly of garlic, which everyone said was to ward off a vampire he'd met in Romania and was afraid would be coming back to get him one of these days. His turban, he told them, had been given to him by an African prince as a thank you for getting rid of a troublesome zombie, but they weren't sure they believed his story. For one thing, when Seamus asked eagerly to hear how Quirrell had fought off the zombie, Quirrell went pink and started talking about the weather; for another, they had noticed that a funny smell hung around the turban, and the Weasley twins insisted it was stuffed full of garlic as well, so Quirrell was protected wherever he went.

Harry was very relieved to find out he wasn't miles behind everyone else like he had worried. Lots of people had come from Muggle families and, like him, hadn't any idea they were witches and wizards. There was so much to learn even people like Ron didn't have much of a head start.

Friday was an important day for Harry and Ron. They finally managed to find their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast without getting lost.

"What have we got today?" Harry asked Ron, although he already knew, as he poured sugar on his porridge.

"Double Potions with the Slytherins," said Ron. "Snape's Head of Slytherin House. They say he always favors them - we'll be able to see if it true."

"Wish McGonagall favored us," said Harry, Professor McGonagall was head of their house, but it had not stopped her from giving them a huge pile of homework the day before.

Just then, the mail arrived. Harry had gotten used to this by now, but it had given him a bit of a shock on the first morning, when about a hundred owls had suddenly streamed into the Great Hall during breakfast, circling the tables until they saw their owners, and dropping their letters and packages into their laps.

Hedwig hadn't brought Harry anything so far. She sometimes flew in to nibble his ear and have a bit of toast before going off to sleep in the owlery with the other school owls. This morning, however, she fluttered down between the marmalade and the sugar bowl and dropped a note onto Harry's plate. Harry tore it open at once. It said, in very large untidy scrawl,

 _Dear Harry,_

 _I know you have Friday afternoons off, so I'd like to invite you to come have a cup of tea with me around three. I know we have not had a chance to talk, but I was a good friend of your mother's. She was kind to me, and I would like to return the favor. I want to hear about your first week. Send an answer back with Hedwig._

 _Hagrid_

The large grounds keeper knew his mother! Harry borrowed Ron's quill, scribbled 'Yes, please, see you at three' on the back of the note, and sent it off with Hedwig again.

It was lucky Harry had tea to look forward to, because the Potions lesson turned out to be the worst thing that had happened to him so far.

At the start of term banquet, Harry had gotten the idea that Professor Snape had to pretend not to know or like him. By the end of the first potions lesson he was sure Snape was playing this dislike up way too far! He was acting like he hated him!

Potions took place down in one of the dungeons. It was colder here than up in the main castle, and would have been quite creepy enough without the pickled animals floating in glass jars all around the room. It reminded Harry of what Snape had said to Sheila when he found a snake in one of them. He had not been joking!

Snape, like Flitwick, started the class by taking roll call, and like Flitwick, he paused at Harry's name.

"Ah, yes," he said softly, "Harry Potter. Our new - celebrity."

Draco Malfoy and his friends Crabbe and Goyle sniggered behind their hands. Harry remembered what Snape had told him. That he had to stay in favor with the likes of Malfoy, so he tried not to let it bug him. Hermione, who was sitting next to him, gave him an "I'm sorry for you,' look to help cheer him up. He was grateful. Snape finished calling the names and looked up at the class. His eyes were black and had none of the warmth they had contained over the summer. They were cold and empty and made you think of dark tunnels. This unsettled Harry somewhat and made him worry.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making," he bagan. He spoke in barely more than in whisper and in a way Harry barely recognized as his voice, but they heard every word - like Professor McGonagall, Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses….I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even put a stopper in death - if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

More silence followed this little speech. Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked at each other, and Neville was looking at the floor trying to be as small as possible. Hermione then moved up to the edge of her seat, and she looked desperate to prove she was not a dunderhead. Harry remembered Snape's dislike of know it alls and looked at her to get her attention. He shook his head no in warning.

"Potter!" said Snape suddenly, "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Harry could see Hermione almost in pain not raising her hand.

"I believe those are the last steps for a potion called, Draught of the Living Death, sir."

He didn't look at him as he spoke and wasn't sure if it was better to answer correctly or play dumb.

"Ah, fame gone to you head? Tell me where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

"In a goat's stomach," Harry supplied softly, still looking at his hands in his lap. He had read the entire potions text. He had wanted to do well in Snape's class. Now he was not so sure this was a good idea. He was not a fan of this Snape at all.

"Looks like someone actually opened a book before coming here," he sneered at Potter. "Tell me, Potter, what is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

Harry had about as much of this as he was willing to take. If he wanted to fight, he'd fight. He slowly raised his head. Malfoy and his gang were starting to giggle.

"They are the same thing sir, also known as aconite," Harry said meeting his eyes with his own hard look.

Snapped expression was one of daggers, directed at him!

"Why are you all not writing this down!"

There was a sudden rummaging for quills and parchment. Over the noise, Snape said, "And a point will be taken from Gryffindor House for your cheek, Potter."

Things didn't improve for the Gryffindors as the Potions lesson continued. Snape put them all into all the pairs and set them to mixing up a simple potion to cure boils. He swept around in his long black cloak, watching them weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs, criticizing almost everyone except Malfoy, whom he seemed to like. Harry had practiced this potion and knew how to make it well. Snape was just telling everyone to look at the perfect way Malfoy has stewed his horned slugs when clouds of acid green smoke and a lot hissing filled the dungeon. Neville had somehow managed to melt Seamus's cauldron into a twisted blob, and their potion was seeping across the stone floor, burning holes in people's shoes. Within seconds, the whole class was standing on their stools while Neville, who had been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed, moaned in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs.

"Idiot boy!" snarled Snape, clearing the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"

Neville whimpered as boils started to pop up all over his nose.

"Take him to the hospital wing," Snape spat at Seamus. Then he rounded on Harry and Ron, who had been working next to Neville.

"You - Potter - why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he'd make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That's another point you've lost for Gryffindor."

This was so unfair that Harry opened his mouth to argue, but Ron kicked him behind their cauldron.

"Don't push it," he muttered. "I've heard Snape can turn very nasty.

Harry new he should take Ron's advice, but he wanted to talk to Snape - he needed detention.

"That's not fair sir," Harry said standing.

Snape whipped around so fast that those near Harry flinched, but not Harry.

"You will be scrubbing cauldrons tonight, Potter - detention 6:00 pm," he turned back around and sneered. "And five more points from Gryffindor for your insubordination."

As they climbed the steps out of the dungeon an hour later, Harry's mind was racing and his spirits were low. He'd lost seven points for Gryffindor in his very first week - why did Snape have to do that? Did he hate him?

"Cheer up," said Ron, "Snape's always taking points off Fred and George. Can I come and meet Hagrid with you?"

"Thanks from keeping me from making a fool of myself," Hermione added, "I can with you to Hagrid's if you would like too?" she offered.

Harry had to smile on the inside when he realized he had friends who cared about him for the first time in his life. He was sorry Neville was in the hospital wing.

At five to three they left the castle and made their way across the grounds. Hagrid lived in a small wooden house on the edge of the forbidden forest. A crossbow and a pair of galoshes were outside the front door.

When Harry knocked they heard a frantic scrabbling from inside and sevel booming barks. Then Hagrid's voice rang out, saying, "Back, Fang - back."

Hagrid's big, hairy face appeared in the crack as he pulled the door open.

"Hang on," he said. "Back, Fang."

He let them in, struggling to keep a hold on the collar of an enormous black boarhound. There was only one room inside. Hams and pheasants were hanging for the ceiling , a copper kettle was boiling on the open fire, and in the corner stood a massive bed with a patchwork quilt over it.

"Make yerselves at home," said Hagrid, letting go of Fang, who bounded straight for Ron and started licking his ears. Like Hagrid, Fang was clearly not as fierce as he looked.

"Hi," Harry said smiling. "This is Ron, and she is Hermione," Harry said introducing his friends. He had asked around and everyone had agreed Hagrid was well liked by those who took the time to get to know him.

"Another Weasley, eh?" said Hagrid, glancing at Ron's freckles, "I spent half me life chasin' yer twin brothers away from the forest."

The rock cakes were shapeless lumps with raisins that almost broke their teeth. It was Hermione who showed them how to pretend to eat them and then put them in the pockets of their robes. They told Hagrid all about their first lessons and how Neville had ended up in the hospital wing, or he would have been here too. Fang rested his head on Harry's knee and drooled all over his robes.

They were all delighted to hear Hagrid call Filch "that old git."

"An' as fer that cat, Mrs. Norris, I'd like ter introduce her to Fang sometime. D'yeh know, every time I go up ter the school, she follows me everywhere? Can't get rid of her - Filch puts her up to it."

Harry told Hagrid about Snape's lessons. Hagrid, like Ron and Hermione, told Harry not to worry about it, that Snape liked hardly any of the students.

"But he seemed to really hate me."

"Rubbish!" said Hagrid. "Why should he?"

Yet Harry knew there was more to it than normal, but he wanted to hear about his mother, not talk about Snape.

"You mentioned you knew my mom?" Harry asked.

"Yes," Hagrid said smiling. "She was a true friend to me. Helped me fit in and find my place 'ere. Helped the other people 'ere accept me. Mighta left if not fer her. Kids can be down right mean sometimes," Hagrid remembered.

Harry, Ron and Hermione listened for a while as Hagrid told them stories about Harry's parents and the things they would do. This naturally lead to Hagrid asking about Hermione's parents which seemed to confused the large man…'teeth don't need tending that often'. Then he turned to Ron.

"How's yer brother Charlie?" Hagrid asked Ron. "I liked him a lot - great with animals."

Harry and Hermione listed as Ron and Hagrid talked about dragons and Charlie's work with them. It was soon apparent Hagrid loved the idea of working with dragons.

"Always wanted a dragon," Hagrid said dreamily at one point.

Hermione looked worried that anyone would think a dragon was a suitable pet! Harry picked up a piece of paper lying on the table under the tea cozy. It was cutting from the Daily Prophet.

GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN LATEST

Investigations continue into the break-in at Gringotts on 31 July, widely believed to be the work of Dark wizards or witches unknown.

Gringotts goblins today insisted that nothing had been taken. The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied the same day.

"But we're not telling you what was in there, so keep your noses out if you know what's good for you," said a Gringotts spokesgoblin this afternoon.

Harry remembered Ron telling him on the train that someone had tried to rob Gringotts, but Ron hadn't mentioned the date. He had been in Diagon Alley all day that day!

"Hagrid!" said Harry, "this Gringotts break-in happened on my birthday! I was in Diagon Alley all day!" he told him.

"I know, saw ya there myself at one point," Hagrid said smiling. "You were with Professor Sintra and 'ermione 'ere," Hagrid said. "She told me ye wanted to keep it low key, so I didn't say 'nuttin.' But I saw ya when I went to the bank to get something for Dumbledore," he said. "Shouldn't o' said that."

Then he turned back to Ron to talk about dragons some more.

Soon they were walking back to the castle for dinner before Harry had to head down to detention with Professor Snape. Their pockets were weighed down with rock cakes and Harry was happy to have a new friend who knew his parents and liked to talk about them. He was also forced to wonder if Hagrid had collected that package from Gringotts just in time? And what was it?

At five fifty he said goodbye to his friends and headed down to the dungeons for his detention. He felt the sneers from the Slytherins as he left, it was no secret what had happened earlier in the morning.

He walked into the classroom, shutting the door behind him. He didn't see Snape in the room.

"Back here, Potter," Snape called.

Snape had an office whose door was hidden in the corner near the back bottom of the classroom. He had not noticed it during class. Harry slowly went down and into the office where Snape was waiting. He passed a large collection of filthy cauldrons and was slightly concerned he might actually end up strubbing cauldrons for the next two hours.

"Shut the door Potter," Snape said as he continued to look through parchments. Harry did so.

Snape than stood and cast spell after spell on the door. Finally, he seemed satisfied they were alone and no one would be interrupting them.

"Please sit," Snape said motioning to the chair in front of the desk.

Harry sat and looked at Snape. He seemed somewhere between the man he knew and the professor he had witnessed today.

"How are you adjusting," Snape asked organizing the parchments and putting them aside.

"It's certainly different," Harry said trying to figure out the enigma that was Snape.

"You studied your books," Snape said sitting back and looking at Harry.

"Yes, you told me to, and I wanted to do well," Harry said.

"You also managed to keep Hermione from looking like an insufferable know it all," Snape sneered, "no small task."

Harry smiled, this was his Snape. He exhaled a breath he didn't realize he had been holding.

"She is just really nervous to prove she can do this, that she belongs here."

"She would not be here if she did not belong," Snape said. "Neville is another story. That boy is a nervous wreck, his grandmother has turned him into a snivelling mess."

"What?" Harry asked.

"He is so scared to do something right, he does everything wrong. You can see it in everything he does. He has no confidence in his ability to so much as dress himself."

"Oh, that sounds like some of the stories I've heard," Harry realized.

"How are things going in your other classes?" Snap asked genuinely curious.

"There's so much more to magic than I thought," Harry told him.

They talked just like they had over the course of the summer and Harry was pleased to know Snape's classroom persona was just that.

"You remember class today," Snape said toward the end of their time.

"Yes," Harry said harshly.

"Every class will be like that, or worse," Snape told him.

"Worse!" Harry cried, "how could it get worse?"

"You knew what you were doing today. Your potion was correct, you answered my questions." Snape said. "If you ever come to class not knowing an answer, make a mistake on your potion, don't keep your house mates from making a mistake. I have to behave even harsher. You set the bar pretty high for yourself today," he seem pleased, but did not say it. "You must maintain it, and exceed it." He said looking at him intently.

"Okay," he sighed.

"To that end I need to teach you a few spell," he smirked.

"I thought you said there was no wand waving in here."

"There's not," he smirked.

He showed him how to always fill two, not one, vial of a completed potion incase something were to happen to the first one. Never do it as the same time, if he were caught doing so it would not be good. As well as how to cast an unbreakable spell on said vials, that one took a few tries for Harry to get the wand movement right. Then he showed him a spell to create a safe zone around his cauldron.

"That's a harder one," Snape admitted. "Practice it in your trunk until you get it. It is on page 135 of the _Standard Spells Useful for Potions_ , which is in your library. That is where you 'find it.' Its intention is to keep exploding potions contained, but it works just as well in keeping unwanted things from getting in. Show it to your friends, and all of you learn it. At some point the Slytherins will start throwing things into your cauldrons. The first time it happens, they will get away with it, then you can start using this.

Harry nodded, "thanks."

"Do I have to let them break my vial before I use the other one?" Harry asked.

"I think you can get away with that one without raising suspicions however, the always doing a second vial I would wait on too."

"Great," Harry said sarcastically.

"One more spell to learn, scourgify. We gave some cauldrons to clean. If anyone asks, you did them all by hand, no magic."

"Got it," Harry said Snape walked toward the door.

"Oh, I almost forgot, my box for the prickly magic cracked, but I fixed it.

Snape stopped and turned around, "explain Potter, details."

"Well, it started at start of term feast. I was looking at you and Professor Quirrell and all of a sudden my scar felt like it had been stabbed and my bracelet burned and prickled and Sheila hissed. Then, just as suddenly, it was gone. That night I had the weirdest dream. I was wearing Professor Quirrell's turban, which kept talking to me, telling me I must transfer to Slytherin at once, because it was my destiny. I told the turban I didn't want to be in Slytherin; it got heavier and heavier; I tried to pull it off but it tightened painfully - and then there was Malfoy turning into you, and laughing becoming high and cold - there was a burst of green light and I woke up, sweating and shaking. I remembered that I had not done my mental homework, I was tired from the feast, so I did it right then. That is when I noticed the crack. I repaired it, put all the prickly magic which had escaped back in it. Then built a bigger, stronger box and put the old box in it, and sealed it tight. I have not had any problems since. I have made sure to do my mental homework, morning and night since."

"I see," Snape said thinking. "Have you had any contact with Professor Quirrell since?"

Harry thought, "well in his class, he's not a good teacher by the way," Snape motioned for him to continue, "oh, once. Ron and I were lost and ended up on third floor corridor at the out-of bounds door. Filch was trying to say we were trying to get past the door, like we were there on purpose. Professor Quirrell showed up and helped us get back to the Great Hall. This school is really confusing."

"Did you sense anything at that time,"

"No," Harry thought, "I didn't, nor during class."

"Thank you for letting me know, make sure if anything happens like that you tell me. Do we have an understanding?"

"Yes," Harry assured him, and he removed the spells from the door.

Then Snape spent ten minutes or so teaching Harry the spell and watching him practice it on the cauldrons. At eight sharp Harry left for his dorm.

After all of dorm mates where in bed he reached out and shrunk his trunk and pulled it in to his curtains. He then enlarged it on his bed and pushed the marking for his library. He went down and spent a few hours studying on his own. He was realizing, now that he was off all but the core potion, he had his knack for getting a few extra hours at the end of his day back. He had so much to study he needed it. Once back out of his trunk he replaced it at the foot of his bed and enlarged it. Then he did his mental homework. His first order of business was to capture all the prickly magic which he had completed before coming to Hogwarts. Now he was just working on filling his pillar, and it was already about half full. With that done, he went to sleep.


	12. Chapter 12 The Midnight Duel

Chapter 12

The Midnight Duel

Harry had never believed he would meet a boy he hated more than Dudley, but that was before he met Draco Malfoy. Still, first-year Gryffindors only had Potions with the Slytherins, so they didn't have to put up with Malfoy much. Or at least, they didn't until they spotted a notice pinned up in the Gryffindor common room which made them all groan. Flying lessons would be starting on Thursday - and Gryffindor and Slytherin would be learning together.

"Typical," said Harry darkly. "Just what I always wanted. To make a fool of myself on a broomstick in front of Malfoy."

He had been looking forward to learning to fly more than anything else, and know this.

"You don't know that you'll make a fool of yourself," said Ron reasonably. "Anyway, I know Malfoy's always going on about how good he is at Quidditch, but I bet that's all talk."

Malfoy certainly did talk about flying a lot. He complained loudly about first years never getting on the house Quidditch teams and told, long boastful stories that always seemed to end with him narrowly escaping Muggles in helicopters. He wasn't the only one, though: the way Seamus Finnigan told it, he'd spent most of his childhood zooming around the countryside on his broomstick. Even Ron would tell anyone who'd listen about the time he'd almost hit a hang glider on Charlie's old broom. Everyone from wizarding families talked about Quidditch constantly. Ron had already had a big argument with Dean Thomas, who shared their dormitory, about soccer. Ron couldn't see what was exciting about a game with only one ball where no one was allowed to fly. Harry had caught Ron prodding Dean's poster of West Ham soccer team, trying to get the players to move.

Neville had never been on a broomstick in his life, because his grandmother had never let him near one. Privately, Harry could see why, but if Snape was to be believe she was causing it as well. Neville managed to have an extraordinary number of accidents even with both feet on the ground.

Hermione was almost as nervous about flying as Neville was. This was something you couldn't learn by heart out of a book - not that she hadn't tried. At breakfast on Thursday she bored all of them stupid with flying tips she'd gotten out of a library book called _Quidditch Through the Ages_. Neville was hanging on to her every word, desperate for anything that might help him hang on to his broomstick later, but everybody else was very pleased when Hermione's lecture was interrupted by the arrival of the mail.

Harry had not received a single letter since Hagrid's note, something the Malfoy had been quick to notice, of course. Malfoy's eagle owl was always bringing him packages of sweets from home, which he opened gloatingly at the Slytherin table.

A barn owl brought Neville a small package from his grandmother. He opened it excitedly and showed them a glass ball the size of a large marble, which seemed to be filled with white smoke.

"It's a Remembrall!" he explained. "Gran knows I forget things - this tells you if there's something you've forgotten to do. Look, you hold it tight like this and if it turns red - oh…" His face fell, because the Remembrall had suddenly glowed scarlet, "..you've forgotten something…"

Neville was trying to remember what he'd forgotten when Draco Malfoy, who was passing the Gryffindor table, snatched the Remembrall out of his hand.

Harry and Ron jumped to their feet. They were half hoping for a reason to fight Malfoy, but Professor McGonagall, who could spot trouble quicker than any teacher in the school, was there in a flash.

"What's going on?"

"Malfoy's got my Remembrall, Professor."

Scowling, Malfoy quickly dropped the Remembrall back on the table.

"Just looking," he said, and he slithered away with Crabbe and Goyle behind him.

At three-thirty that afternoon, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville and the other Gryffindors hurried down the front steps onto the grounds for their first flying lesson. It was a clear, breezy day, and the grass rippled under their feet as they marched down the sloping laws toward a smooth, flat lawn on the opposite side of the grounds to the forbidden forest, whose trees were swaying darkly in the distance.

The Slytherins were already there, and so were twenty broomsticks lying in neat lines on the ground. Harry had heard Fred and George Weasley complaining about the school brooms, saying that some of them started to vibrate if you flew too high, or always flew slightly to the left.

Their teacher, Madam Hooch, arrived. She had short, grey hair, and yellow eyes like a hawk.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" she barked. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up."

Harry glanced down at his broom. It was old and some of the twigs stuck out at odd angles.

"Stick out your right hand over your broom," called Madam Hooch at the front, "and say 'Up!'"

"Up!" everyone shouted.

Harry's broom jumped into his hand at once, but it was one of the few that did. Hermione's had simply rolled over on the ground, and Neville's hadn't moved at all. Perhaps brooms, like horses, could tell when you were afraid, thought Harry; there was a quiver in Neville's voice that said only too clearly he wanted to keep his feet on the ground.

Madam Hooch then showed them how to mount their brooms without sliding off the end, and walked up and down the rows correcting their grips as needed. Harry and Ron were delighted when she told Malfoy he'd been doing it wrong for years.

"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," said Madam Hooch. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle - three - two -"

But Neville, nervous and jumpy and frightened of being left on the ground, pushed off hard before the whistle had touched Madam Hooch's lips.

"Come back, boy!" she shouted, but Neville was rising straight up like a cork shot out of a bottle - twelve feet - twenty feet. Harry saw the scared white face look down at the ground falling away, saw him gasp, slip sideways off the broom and -

WAHM - a thud and a nasty crack and Neville lay face down on the grass in a heap. His broomstick was still rising higher and higher, and started to drift lazily toward the forbidden forest and out of sight.

Madam Hooch was bending over poor Neville, her face as white as his.

"Broken wrist," Harry heard her mutter. "Come on, boy - it's all right, up you get."

She turned to the rest of the class.

"None of you are to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch!' Come on, dear."

Neville, his face tear-streaked, clutching his wrist, hobbled off with Madam Hooch, who had her arm around him.

No sooner were they out of earshot than Malfoy burst into laughter.

"Did you see his face, the great lump?"

The other Slytherins joined in.

"Shut up, Malfoy," snapped Parvati Patil.

"Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?" said Pansy Parkinson, a hard-faced Slytherin girl. "Never thought you'd like fat little cry-babies, Parvati."

"Look!" said Malfoy, darting forward and snatching something out of the grass. "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him."

The Remembrall glittered in the sun as he held it up.

"Give that here, Malfoy," said Harry quietly. Everyone stopped talking to watch.

Malfoy smiled nastily.

"I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find - how about - up a tree?"

"Give it here!" Harry yelled as he felt the power starting to grow and a warmth spread throughout his body, he was ready. Malfoy lept onto his broomstick and took off. He hadn't been lying, he could fly well. Hovering level with the topmost branches of an oak he called, "Come and get it, Potter!"

Harry grabbed his broom.

"No!" shouted Hermione. "Madam Hooch told us not to move - you'll get us all into trouble."

Harry ignored her. His magic was swirling and his bracelet was starting to warm, blood was pounding in his ears. He mounted the broom and kicked hard against the ground and up, up he soard; air rushed though his hair, and his robes whipped out behind him - and in a rush for fierce joy he realized he'd found something he could do without being taught - this was easy, this was wonderful! He was free! He pulled his broomstick up a little to take it even higher, and heard screams and gasps of girls back on the ground and an admiring whoop from Ron.

He turned his broomstick sharply to face Malfoy in midair. Malfoy looked stunned.

"Give it here," Harry called, "or I'll knock you off that broom!" Harry stared intently at him and Malfoy new he meant it and worse he would do it.

"Oh, yeah?" said Malfoy, trying to sneer, but looking worried.

Harry knew, somehow, what to do. He leaned forward and grasped the broom tightly in both hands, and it shot toward Malfoy like a javelin. Malfoy only just got out of the way in time. Harry made a sharp about-face and held the broom steady. A few people below were clapping. This was no joke. Harry stared him down again.

"No Crabbe and Goyle up here to save your neck, Malfoy," Harry said never taking his eyes off of him.

The same thought seemed to have struck Malfoy, he was on his own.

"Catch it if you can, then!" he shouted, and threw the glass ball as high and as far as he could and then streaked back toward the other students and the ground.

Harry saw, as though in slow motion, the ball rise up in the air and then start to fall. He leaned forward and pointed his brown handle down - the next instant he felt his magic surge and the broom gathering speed in a steep dive, racing the ball to the ground. The wind was whistling in his ears, mingled with the screams of the people watching. He stretched out his hand, only a foot off of the ground, and caught it as he was leveling the broom off and toppling gently onto the grass with the Remembrall clutched safely in his fist.

"HARRY POTTER!"

His heart sank faster than he'd just dived. Professor McGonagall has seen it all and was running toward them. He got to his feet trembling.

"Never - in all my time at Hogwarts - "

Professor McGonagall was almost speechless with shock, and her glasses flashed furiously, "- how dare you - might have broken your neck -"

"It wasn't his fault Professor -

"Be quite, Miss Patil - "

"But Malfoy -"

"That's enough, Mr. Weasley! Potter, follow me, now!"

Harry caught sight of Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle's triumphant faces as he left, walking numbly in Professor McGonagall's wake as she strode toward the castle. He was going to be expelled, he just knew it. He wanted to say something to defend himself, but there seemed to be something wrong with his voice. Professor McGonagall was sweeping along without even looking at him; he had to jog to keep up. Now he had done it. He hadn't even lasted two weeks. Where was he going to go, he couldn't go back to the Dursley's, not now!

Up the front of the steps, up the marble staircase inside, and still Professor McGonagall didn't say a word to him. She wrenched open doors and marched along corridors with Harry trotting miserably behind her. Maybe she was taking him to Dumbledore. He thought of Hagrid, maybe he could ask to stay with him, he was nice enough. He could be his assistant. His stomas twisted and he imagined it, watching Ron and the others become wizards while he stumped around the grounds carrying Hagrid's bag.

Professor McGonagall stopped outside a classroom. She opened the door and poked her head inside.

"Excuse me Professor Flitwick, could I borrow Wood for a moment?"

Wood? Though Harry, bewildered; was wood a cane she was going to use on him?

But Wood turned out to be a person, a burly fifth year boy who came out of Flitwick's class looking confused.

"Follow me, you two," said Professor McGonagall, and they marched on up the corridor, Wood looking curiously at Harry.

"In here."

Professor McGonagall pointed them into a classroom that was empty except for Peeves, who was busy writing rude words on the blackboard.

"Out, Peeves!" she parked. Peeves threw the chalk into a pin, which clanged loudly, and he swooped out cursing. Professor McGonagall slammed the door behind him and turned to face the two boys.

"Potter, this is Oliver Wood. Wood - I've found you a Seeker."

Wood's expression changed from puzzlement to delight.

"Are you serious, Professor?"

"Absolutely," said Professor McGonagall crisply. "The boy's a natural. I've never seen anything like it. Was that your first time on a broomstick, Potter?"

Harry nodded silently. He didn't have a clue what was going on, but he didn't seem to being expelled, and some of the feeling started coming back to his legs.

"He caught that thing in his hands after a fifty-foot dive," Professor McGonagall told Wood. "Didn't even scratch himself. Charlie Weasley couldn't have done it."

Wood was now looking as though all his dreams had come true at once.

"Ever seen a game of Quidditch, Potter?" he asked excitedly.

"Wood's captain of the Gryffindor team," Professor McGonagall explained.

"He's just the build for a Seeker, too," said Wood, now walking around Harry and staring at him. "Light - speedy - we'll have to get him a decent broom, Professor - a Nimbus Two Thousand or a Cleansweep Seven, I'd say."

"I shall speak to Professor Dumbledore and see if we can't bend the first-year rule. Heaven knows, we need a better team that last year. Flattened in that last match by Slytherin, I couldn't look Severus Snape in the face for weeks…"

Professor McGonagall peered sternly over her glasses at Harry.

"I want to hear you're training hard, Potter, or I may change my mind about punishing you."

Then she suddenly smiled.

"Your father would have been proud," she said. "He was an excellent Quidditch player himself."

"You're joking."

It was dinnertime. Harry had just finished telling Ron what had happened when he'd left the grounds with Professor McGonagall. Ron had a piece of steak and kidney pie halfway to his mouth, but he'd forgotten all about it.

"Seeker?" he said. "But first years never - you must be the youngest house player in about - "

"- a century," said Harry, shoveling pie into his mouth. He felt particularly hungry after the excitement of the afternoon. "Wood told me, that. I had no idea."

Ron was so amazed, so impressed, he just sat and gaped at Harry.

"I start training next week," said Harry. "Only don't tell anyone, Wood wants to keep it a secret."

Fred and George Weasley now came into the hall, spotted Harry, and hurried over.

"Well done," said George in a low voice. "Wood told us. We're on the team too - Beaters."

"I tell you, we're going to win that Quidditch cup for sure this year," said Fred. "We haven't won since Charlie left, but this year's team is going to be brilliant. You must be good, Harry, Wood was almost skipping when he told us."

"Anyway, we've got to go, Lee Jordan reckons he's found a new secret passageway out of the school."

"Bet it's that one behind the statue of Gregory the Smarmy that we found in our first week. See you."

Fred and George had hardly disappeared when someone far less welcomed turned up: Malfoy flanked by Crabbe and Goyle.

"Having a last meal, Potter? When are you getting the train back to the Muggles?"

"You're a lot braver now that you're back on the ground and you've got your little friends with you," said Harry coolly. There was of course nothing all that little about Crabbe and Goyle, but as the High Table was full of teachers, neither of them could do more than crack their knuckles and scowl.

"I'd take you on anytime on my own," said Malfoy. "Tonight, if you want. Wizard's duel. Wands only - no contact. What's the matter? Never heard of a wizard's duel before, I suppose?"

"Of course he had," said Ron, wheeling around. "I'm his second, who's yours?"

Malfoy looked at Crabbe and Goyle, sizing them up.

"Crabbe," he said. "Midnight all right? We'll meet you in the trophy room; that's always unlocked."

When Malfoy had gone, Ron and Harry looked at each other.

"What is a wizard's duel?" Harry said, "And what do you mean. You're my second?"

"Well, a second's there to take over if you die," said Ron casually, getting started at last on his cold pie. Catching the look on Harry's face, he added quickly, "But people only die in proper duels, you know, with real wizards. The most you and Malfoy'll be able to do is send sparks at each other. Neither of you knows enough magic to do any real damage. I bet he expected you to refuse anyway."

"And what if I wave my wand and nothing happens?"

"Throw it away and punch him on the nose," Ron shrugged as he took another bit of pie, not nearly as concerned as Harry thought he should be.

"Excuse me."

They both looked up to see a stern looking Hermione.

"Can't a person eat in peace in this place?" Ron grumbled.

Hermione ignored him and spoke to Harry.

"I couldn't help overhearing what you and Malfoy were saying and you mustn't go wandering around the school at night, think of the points you'll lose if you're caught, and you're bound to be. There has to be another way," Hermione seemed to be offering a solution and the look on her face told him as much.

"Come on," Harry said to Ron standing, Ron looked aghast, he had not finished eating.

Harry was shoving some fruit and rolls into his pockets. Ron followed suit and the three of them left the Great Hall. Once in an empty classroom, Hermione looked at them.

"We have to help Neville. Malfoy can't tease him like that, it's not appropriate. He needs to learn his lesson and this is the perfect chance."

Ron and Harry looked at each other, who knew she had it in her.

"What did you have in mind?" Ron said rubbing his hands together.

"We need to get them caught, without you guys getting caught. But they have to get caught by the right person or it won't make any difference," said said, "it's not like Snape is going to get them in trouble. We need a plan."

"I thought you had one," Ron said.

"I've only had time to think of 'get them caught by the right person while not getting caught yourselves...before the duel!'" she told them.

Harry smiled. "I have an idea."

He lead the two of them back to the tower, though the common room and up to the boys dorm. Ron was a little embarrassed when they went into their dorm room and shut the door.

"Okay, first you have to promise not to tell," he looked at them. "Promise?"

They both nodded and he went over and opened his trunk. He pushed on a few icons and watched as the side fell into stairs.

"Wicked," Ron said again about the trunk smiling.

"I've read about these," Hermione said.

"It was in my vault," Harry said to her. "Let's go," he said offering them the stairs.

Ron didn't need to be asked twice and Hermione followed him. Harry pushed a few more icons so that if anyone came in the dorm room they wouldn't know they were down here.

"Wow," Hermione said looking around. "How many rooms?" She asked.

"Six, a closet, a potions lab, an armory, a library, this room, and a storage room." He rambled quickly.

The other two were talking at the same time. Ron wanted to see the armory and Hermione wanted to see the library. Harry was forced to give them a tour of the four key rooms. He said the storage room and the closet had personal things, and the other two took the hint not to ask. Hermione nearly cried when she saw the library and Ron had a fit when he saw the swords, the practice dummies, and the dueling stage.

"Will this help us come up with a plan," he asked Hermione. "We only have a few hours," he reminded them.

"This is awesome!" Ron said, "jumping up onto the dueling platform."

"Yes," Hermione agreed, "but right now we need a plan. We need to figure out how to get Malfoy caught before he gets to the trophy room, by the right person."

"Can't you just tell on him?" Ron offered.

Hermione thought, "I could, but if I told McGonagall, then she'd tell Snape. That would probably be just as likely to get you two in trouble as well. No that will not work."

"Oh," Ron seemed bummed at that.

"Hagrid?" Harry offered.

"Why would he be in the castle in the middle of the night?" Hermione asked.

Hermione smiled. "How about Hagrid's annoyance, Mr. Filch and Mrs. Norris!"

"Yes!" Ron said punching the air.

"Now we know who we want to have catch them, now we need the how." Hermione stared to pace as she thought.

It was half past eleven when Ron and Harry snuck down to the common room. Hermione was waiting for them and the three quickly and quietly made their way out. As soon as the portrait opened they paused. They heard something, it was Neville! He was curled up on the floor fast asleep, but jerked awake as they stepped out.

"Thank goodness you found me! I've been out here for hours, I couldn't remember the password to get in to bed."

"Keep your voice down, Neville. The password's 'Pig snout' but it won't help you now, the Fat Lady's gone off somewhere."

"How's your arm?" said Harry.

"Fine," said Neville, showing them. "Madam Pomfrey mended it in a about a minute.

"Good - well, look, Neville, we've got to be somewhere, well see you later -"

"Don't leave me!" said Neville, scrambling to his feet. "I don't want to stay here alone, the Bloody Baron's been past twice already."

"Alight," Hermione agreed, she could still make it work, she thought. "But you have to keep quiet and make sure you do what I ask, if I need you too. We cannot get caught, I cannot risk that!"

Neville nodded and they headed off. They flitted along corridors striped with bars of moonlight from the high windows. At every turn Harry expected to run into Filch or Mrs. Norris, but they were lucky. They sped up a staircase to the third floor and tiptoed to the trophy room.

Malfoy and Crabbe weren't there yet. The crystal trophy cases glimmered where the moonlight caught them. Cups, shields, plates, and statues winked silver and gold in the darkness. They edged along the walls, keeping their eyes on the doors at either end of the room. Harry took out his wand in case Malfoy leapt in and started at once.

Hermione drug Neville back out and from the route they suspected Malfoy would come come from. As they made their way to spring the trap, she saw Mr. Filch and Mrs. Norris heading up. It then occurred to her that Malfoy may have been trying the same things they were!

"It's a trap," Hermione whispered to Neville.

Neville was glued to Hermione as they hurried back to the trophy room and were able to grab Harry and Ron's attention and get them out the other door just before Filch entered. They hurried back around following Hermione wherever she ran. Hermione just ran, she had never done anything like this before and this is what it got her. Try and make friends, don't be like you were before and it will all work out for you. It was going to get her thrown out of school! They ripped through a tapestry and found themselves in a hidden passageway, and Hermione sat down.

"I need to breath," she said her heart racing and her mind going all over.

The others seemed in a similar state as they fell down beside her.

"That git set us up!" Ron said a few seconds later.

"Wasn't that what we were trying to do?" Harry pointed out.

"Still," Ron tried. "At least we showed up."

"We need to get back to the tower," Hermione said.

"I don't know where we are," Neville said looking around.

"I don't either," Hermione agreed. "We are in a hidden passage, but I don't know what is on either side of it."

"It's a pretty safe place," Neville offered.

"You're not suggesting we stay here," Ron said. "It's six hours until curfew is lifted."

"We can't stay," Hermione said a few seconds later. "Mrs. Norris can track us, I think."

They chose to not go back the way they came. They came out near the charms classroom, which they knew was miles from the trophy room and breathed a sigh of relief. It was less than twelve paces later when a doorknob rattled and something came shooting out of a classroom in front of them.

It was Peeves. He caught sight of them and gave a squeal of delight.

"Shut up, Peeves - please - you'll get us thrown out."

Peeves cackled.

"Wandering around at midnight, Ickle Firsties? Tut, tut, tut. Naughty, naughty, you'll get caughty."

"Not if you don't give us away, Peeves, please."

"Should tell Filch, I should," said Peeves in a saintly voice, but his eyes glittered wickedly. "It's for your own good you know."

"Get out of the way," snapped Ron, taking a swipe at Peeves - this was his mistake.

"STUDENTS OUT OF BED!" Peeves bellowed, "STUDENTS OUT OF BED DOWN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR!"

Ducking under Peeves, they ran for their lives, right to the end of the corridor where they slammed into a door - and it was locked.

"This is it!" Ron moaned, as they pushed helplessly at the door, "We're done for! This is the end!"

They could hear footsteps, Filch running as fast as he could toward Peeve's shouts.

"Oh, move over," Hermione snarled. She grabbed her wand, tapped the lock, and whispered, "Alohomora!"

The lock clicked and the door swung open - they piled through it, shut it quickly, and pressed their ears against it, listening.

"Which way did they go Peeves?" Filch was saying. "Quick tell me."

"Say 'please.'"

"Don't mess with me, Peeves, now where did they go?"

"Shan't say nothing if you don't say please," said Peeves in his annoying sing song voice.

"All right - please."

"NOTHING! Ha haaa! Told you I wouldn't say nothing if you didn't say please! Ha ha! Haaaa!" And they heard the sound of Peeves whooshing away and Filch curing in rage.

"He thinks this door is locked," Harry whispered. "I think we'll be okay - get off, Neville!" For Neville had been tugging on the sleeve of Harry's robe for the last minute. "What?"

Harry turned around - and saw, quite clearly, what. For a moment, he was sure he'd walked into a nightmare - this was too much, on top of everything that had happened so far.

They weren't in a room, as he had supposed. They were in a corridor. The forbidden corridor on the third floor. And now they knew why it was forbidden.

They were looking straight into the eyes of a monstrous dog, a dog that filled the whole space between the ceiling and the floor. It had three heads, three pairs of rolling mad eyes, three noses twitching and quivering in their direction; three drooling mouths, saliva hanging in slippery robes from yellowish fangs.

It was standing quite still, all six eyes staring at the four of them, and Harry knew that the only reason they weren't already dead was that their sudden appearance had taken it by surprise, but it was quickly getting over that, there was no mistaking what those thunderous growls meant.

Harry groped for the doorknob - between Filch and death, he'd take Filch.

They fell backwards - and Harry slammed the door shut hearing it click locked instantly, and they ran, they almost flew, back down the corridor. Filch must have hurried off to look for them somewhere else, because they didn't see him anywhere, but they hardly cared - all they wanted to do was put as much space as possible between them and that monster. They didn't stop running until they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady on the seventh floor.

"Where on earth have you all been?" she asked, looking at the state of them with their face flushed panting and sweating.

"Never mind that - pig snout, pig snout," panted Harry, and the portrait swung forward. They scrambled in to the common room and collapsed, trembling, into armchairs.

It was a while before any of them said anything, Neville, indeed, looked as if he'd never speak again.

"What do they think they're doing, keeping a thing like that locked up in a school?" said Ron finally. "If any dog needs exercise, that one does."

Hermione had got both her breath and her temper back again.

"You didn't use your eyes, any of you, did you?" she snapped. "Did you bother to see what he was standing on?"

"The floor," Harry suggested. "I wasn't looking at its feet, I was too busy with its heads!"

"The trap door," Neville whispered.

The other three turned to look at their ghost white friend. He seemed to be recovering some and his words seemed to calm the others.

"That's right," Hermione continued calmer, "he was guarding a trap door."

They were silent for a minute and Harry's mind was working. What had Hagrid said? Gringotts was the safest place in the world for something you wanted to hide - except for perhaps Hogwarts. What had Hagrid taken from Gringotts on his birthday, and what was now being hid past the trap door?

"Let's head to bed," Ron said standing.

"Night," Hermione whispered as she heading the other direction. She was not sure that trying to fit in was worth it, but at least they hadn't been killed, or worse, expelled!


	13. Chapter 13 Halloween

Chapter 13

Halloween

Malfoy couldn't believe his eyes when he saw that Harry and Ron were still at Hogwarts the next day, looking tired but perfectly cheerful. Indeed, by the next morning Harry and Ron thought that meeting the three-headed dog had been an excellent adventure, and they were quite keen to have another one. Neville and Hermione where trying to be the voices of reason. Harry had quickly filled them in on his thoughts about Hagrid and the Gringotts break in. They spend quite some time wondering what could possibly need such a heavy guard.

Things settled into a routine with classes and school work. Neville was soon introduced to the groups personal study rooms in Harry's trunk, also sworn to keeping it silent. There was not room for many more if they were all in there in the same room at the same time. They learned Ron and Harry could be in one room and that if Hermione wanted to go to the Library, all she had to do was go to the stairs by herself and go. Ron and Harry simply watched as she seemed to turn away. To her it seemed Ron and Harry turned away. So they learned how to get around and study what they needed. They made sure to know how to make the weeks potion perfectly, well beforehand, even Neville. Harry also showed them the book Snape had mentioned to him. He'd found four or five spells he thought they should have at the ready. Some were going to take some practice. They were going to show Snape they could do this and take his rudeness. They were soon starting to get the hang of this school thing.

What Hermione wanted now was a way to get back at Malfoy, and to their great delight, just the thing arrived in the mail about a week later. As the owls flooded into the Great Hall, everyone's attention was caught by a long, thin package carried by six large screech owls. Harry was just as interested as everyone else to see what was in this large parcel, and was amazed when the owls soared down and dropped it right in front of him, knocking his bacon to the floor. They had hardly fluttered out of the way when another owl dropped a letter on top of the parcel.

Harry ripped open the letter first, which was lucky, because it said:

 _DO NOT OPEN THE PARCEL AT THE TABLE._

 _It contains your new Nimbus Two Thousand, but I don't want everyone knowing you've got a broomstick or they'll all want one. Oliver Wood will meet you tonight on the Quidditch field at seven o'clock for your first training session._

 _Professor McGonagall_

Harry had difficulty hiding his glee as he handed the note to Ron to read, Hermione reading over his shoulder.

"I've never even touched one," Ron mumbled under his breath.

They left the great hall quickly, wanting to unwrap the broomstick in private before their first class, but halfway across the entrance hall they found the way upstairs barred by Crabbe and Goyle. Malfoy tried to seize the package from Harry, but Harry wasn't letting it go. He wrenched it back out of Malfoy's hands.

"That's a broomstick," he said with a mixture of jealousy and spite on his face. "You'll be in for it this time, Potter, first years aren't allowed them."

Ron couldn't resist rubbing it in.

"It's not any old broomstick," he said, "it's a Nimbus Two Thousand. What have you got at home, Malfoy, a Comet Two Sixty?" Ron grinned at Harry. "Comets look flashy, but they're not in the same league as the Nimbus."

"What would you know about it, Weasley, you couldn't afford half the handle," Malfoy snapped back. "I suppose you and your brothers have to save up twig by twig."

Before Ron could answer, Professor Flitwick appeared at Malfoy's elbow.

"Not arguing, I hope, boys?" he squeaked.

"Potter's been sent a broomstick, Professor," Malfoy said quickly.

"Yes, yes, that's right," said Professor Flitwick, beaming at Harry. "Professor McGonagall told be all about the special circumstances, Potter. And what model is it?"

"A Nimbus Two Thousand, sir," said Harry, fighting not to laugh at the look of horror on Malfoy's face. "And it's really thanks to Malfoy here that I've got it," he added. "If he hadn't thrown Neville's Remembrall, we never would have known I had the knack for it."

Harry, Ron, Neville and Hermione watched the expressions on Malfoy's face with delight and then headed upstairs, smothering their laughter at Malfoy's obvious rage and confusion.

"Oh, I can't believe this," Hermione chided has they hurried to the tower. "It was wonderful to see Malfoy suffer, but you were rewarded for breaking the rules! This is a moral dilemma if I have ever seen one."

"Seriously, Hermione." Ron said looking at her, "you just have to let these things go and thank your lucky stars. Harry got lucky, Malfoy got what he deserved, and poor Neville's wrist was the only thing hurt, and it's better. So just let it go."

"Just don't get the habit, we could have just as easily all gotten expelled," she pointed out.

"Point taken," Harry said as they arrived at the portrait.

Ron, Neville and Harry ran up stairs to stash the broomstick and then the four of them headed off to class.

Harry had a lot of trouble keeping his mind on his lessons that day. It kept wandering up to the dormitory where his new broomstick was lying under his bed, or straying off to the Quidditch field here he'd be learning to play that night. He and Ron inhaled their dinner that evening without noticing what they were eating and then they rushed upstairs to unwrap the Nimbus Two Thousand at last. Neville and Hermione didn't even try to stop them.

"Wow," Ron sighed, as the broomstick rolled onto Harry's bedspread.

Even Harry, who knew nothing about the different brooms, thought it looked wonderful. Sleek and shiny, with a mahogany handle, it had a long tale of neat, straight twigs and Nimbus Two Thousand written in gold near the top.

Harry thought about waiting until seven, but decided some warm up flying was needed and headed out to the pitch a little early. He'd never seen the inside of the stadium before. Hundreds of seats were raised in stands around the field so the spectators were high enough to see what was going on. At either end of the field were three golden poles with hoops on the end. They reminded Harry of the little plastic bubble wands Muggle children found in their bottles of bubbles, except they were fifty feet high.

Eager to fly again, Harry mounted his broomstick and kicked off from the ground. What a feeling of pure freedom - he swooped in and out of the goal posts and then sped up and down the field. The Nimbus Two Thousand turned wherever he wanted at his lightest touch. It was smoother and faster than the school broom he had ridden before. He was soon zooming around the pitch and weaving in and out of the goal posts as his confidence gained. Then he started flying through the hoops at faster and faster speeds. The magic in him was loving this and he was just about to see just how fast he could go when:

"Hey, Potter, come down!"

Oliver Wood had arrived. He was carrying a large wooden crate under his arm. Harry landed next to him.

"Very nice," Wood said his eyes glinting. "I see what McGonagall meant….you really are a natural. Is that really only the second time you have been on a broom?" Harry nodded. "Amazing, well tonight I am just going to teach you the rules, then you will be joining the team for practice three times a week."

He opened the crate. Inside were four different-sized balls.

"Right," said Wood. "Now, Quidditch is easy enough to understand even if it's not easy to play. There are seven players on each side. Three of them are called Chasers."

"Three Chasers," Harry repeated, as Wood took out a bright red ball about the size of a soccer ball.

"This ball is called the Quaffle," said Wood. "The Chasers throw the Quaffle to each other and try and get it through one of the hoops to score a goal. Ten points every time the Quaffle goes through one of the hoops. Follow me?"

"The Chasers throw the Quaffle and put it through the hoops to score," Harry recited. "So - that's sort of like basketball on broomsticks with six hoops, isn't it?"

"What's basketball?" said Wood curiously.

"Never mind," said Harry quickly.

"Now, there's another player on each side who'd call the Keeper - I'm Keeper for Gryffindor. I fly around our hoops and stop the other team from scoring."

"Three Chasers, one Keeper," said Harry, who was determined to remember it all. "And they play with the Quaffle. Okay, got that. So what are they for?" He pointed at the three balls left inside the box."

"I'll show you now," said Wood. "Take this."

He handed Harry a small club, a bit like a short baseball bat.

"I'm going to show you what the Bludgers do," Wood said. "These two are the Bludgers."

He showed Harry two identical balls, jet black, and slightly smaller than the red Quaffle. Harry noticed that they seemed to be straining to escape the straps holding them inside the box.

"Stand back," Wood warned Harry. He bent down and freed one of the Bludgers.

At once, the black ball rose high in the air and the pelted straight at Harry's face. Harry swung at it with the bat to stop it from breaking his nose, and sent it zigzagging away into the air - it zoomed around their heads and then shot at Wood. Harry instantly realized that Wood didn't have a bat. His magic already pulsing from the broom ride was at his call. All at once a few things happened. Wood, dived on top of the Bludger in an attempted to pin it to the ground, and Harry held out his hand to stop it from hitting Wood. This resulted in the Bludger hanging paused, spinning in mid-air with Wood on top of it suspended as well. Harry instantly lowered his hand and the pair feel to the ground.

Wood looked at Harry and then wrestled the struggling Bludger back into the crate and strapped it down safely.

"What was that?" He turned and asked Harry.

"I thought it was going to hit you," Harry said looking at his feet.

"Well don't do that during a game," Wood told him sternly. "Using magic on the balls is illegal, got it? Great reflexes though," he said giving Harry a smile.

Wood had been so focused on the Bludger he had not even noticed Harry had stopped the Bludger wandlessly. Harry breathed a sigh of relief and returned Woods smile.

"Got it," Harry agreed. "No magic allowed."

"Now, the Bludgers rocket around, trying to knock players off their brooms. That's why you have two Beaters on each team - the Weasley twins are ours - it's their job to protect their side for the Bludgers and try and knock them toward the other team. So - think you've got all that?"

"Three Chaser try and score with the Quaffle; the Keeper guards the goal posts; the Beaters keep the Bludgers away from their team; and no magic allowed," Harry reeled off.

"Very good," said Wood.

"Er - have the Bludgers ever killed anyone?" Harry asked, hoping he sounded offhand. He had honestly though Wood was going to be seriously hurt.

"Never at Hogwarts. We've had a couple of broken jaws, but nothing worse than that. Now, the last member of the team is the Seeker. That's you. And you don't have to worry about the Quaffle or the Bludgers - "

"- unless they crack my head open."

"Don't worry, the Weasleys are more than a match for the Bludgers - I mean, they're like a pair of human Bludgers themselves."

Wood reached into the crate and took out the forth and last ball. Compared with the Quaffle and Bludgers, it was tiny, about the size of a large walnut. It was bright gold and had little fluttering silver wings. It seemed to sing to Harry, and he was instantly mesmerized by it.

"This," said Wood. "is the Golden Snitch, and it's the most important ball of them all. It's very hard to catch because it is so fast and difficult to see. It's the Seeker's job to catch it. You've got to weave in and out of the Chaser, Beaters, Bludgers, and Quaffle to get it before the other team's seeker, because whichever Seeker catches the Snitch wins his team an extra one hundred and fifty points! Therefore, they nearly always win. That's why Seekers get fouled so much. A game of Quidditch only ends when the Snitch is caught, so it can go on for ages - I think the record is three months, they had to keep bringing on substitutes so the players could get some sleep.

"Well, that's it - any questions?"

Harry shook his head no. He understood what he had to do all right, it was doing it which had him concerned.

"We won't practice with the Snitch yet," said Wood, carefully shutting it back inside the crate, "it's too dark, we might lose it. Let's try you out with a few of these."

He pulled out a bag of ordinary golf balls from his pocket. A few minutes later Wood and Harry were up in the air, Wood throwing the golf balls as hard as he could in every direction for Harry to catch. Harry didn't miss a single one, and Wood was delighted. After half an hour, night had really fallen and it became too dark to carry on.

"That Quidditch cup'll have our name on it this year," said Wood happily as they trudged back to the castle. "I wouldn't be surprised if you turned out better than Charlie Weasley, and he could have played for England if he hadn't gone off chasing after dragons."

Soon the days were passing faster than Harry could ever remember. They had fallen into a kind of routine and it was a busy, but satisfying time for Harry. He made sure to get detention with Snape every week or two and it was only a few weeks before the first vile was accidentally knocked off of Harry's table before it could be graded. When it didn't shatter, and Harry picked it up with a 'no big deal,' the look on Malfoy's face was joy to Harry's heart. Snape however, felt the need to take a point for 'wand waving' in his class. When Harry informed him his wand was not actually waived while in his class, he earned another detention. At least he didn't lose his potion for the period and get a zero, which is what Malfoy had wanted.

The castle was now more of a home to him than Privet Drive ever was and his family was here with him. Ron, Hermione, and Neville spent most evenings in Harry's trunk. It was their 'clubhouse' as Hermione called it. They studied, practiced, researched, played and relaxed all they wanted. They were easily acing their classes, with Hermione help and tutoring. Plus, with all the resources Harry brought to the table, they were making headway on things they wanted to learn. The lessons had quickly become much more interesting now that they had learned the basics, and the four of them had loads they wanted to learn.

Harry had neatly stacked up his parents boxes along a wall of the storage room, hung his parents pictures on the walls of the living room, and turned his storage room into a study lounge. They moved the long table to the center of the room and Franny found enough chairs for the four of them. Here they could study in peace, it was impossible not to be interrupted in the common room. They had tried the library, but they couldn't talk in there. So, they ended up in Harry's trunk. Franny would provide treats now and then too, which made for happy teenagers.

Harry kept up on his late night personal study as well. He was still working on the goblin language most nights. It was slow going, and he had run into a roadblock trying to organize it all; he needed help. One night they were finishing up in the clubhouse, Ron and Neville left and Hermione was putting her books, too many of them, into her bag. Once he was sure Ron and Neville were out of the trunk he asked.

"Have you ever learned another language Hermione?"

"Well, yes," Hermione admitted. "I studied French for a few years before coming here. I also have taken a keen interest in Latin, since most of out spells seem based in that, why?" she said looking a Harry as she headed for the stairs.

"Is there a method?" Harry asked standing to follow her.

Hermione paused on the first step and looked at him.

"What language are you wanting to learn?" she asked.

"You can't tell anyone, even Ron and Neville," he said, she nodded.

"Goblin," he said looking at her.

He could see her mind working, putting the pieces together, seeing the roadblocks and then shaking her head.

"I don't think it's possible," she mused. "We are not allowed to have goblin books. We don't anywhere to start."

"And if I had….say _Hogwarts: A History_ translate into goblin, by a goblin?" Harry offeded.

Hermione's eyes became huge.

"Really?" she asked.

Harry nodded.

"I've been able to figure some things out, basic things," he told her. "But I don't know how to organize it, how to make sense of it all. The sentence structure, the odd letters and symbols. I need some help," he admitted.

"Hum," she thought. "We already have a really full schedule, but I will see what I can do."

"The books and materials I have are locked in the drawer, in the desk in the library. The password is goblin," Harry told her. "Everything must stay in there. Nothing leaves," he said looking at her. She nodded. "I will keep Ron and Neville otherwise occupied, and you can get caught up to where I am. I am sure it will not take you long," he said annoyed with himself.

"I'll start tomorrow," Hermione agreed and she headed up to bed wishing Harry had told her before they studied tonight, she really wanted to get her hands on it now!

On Halloween morning they woke to the delicious smell of baking pumpkin wafting through the corridors. Even better, Professor Flitwick announced in Charms that he thought they were ready to start making objects fly, something they had all been dying to try since they'd seen him make Neville's toad zoom around the classroom. Professor Flitwick put the class into pairs to practice. Seamus Finnigan quickly grabbed Harry has his partner ( which was a disappointment to Neville who had been trying to pair up with him). Ron and Hermione was already together, leaving Neville to find another partner.

"Now, don't forget that nice wrist movement we've been practicing!" squeaked Professor Flitwick, perched on top of his pile of books as usual. "Swish and flick, remember, swish and flick. And saying the magic words properly is very important, too - never forget Wizard Baruffio, who said 's' instead of 'f' and found himself on the floor with a buffalo on his chest."

Harry looked around the room as the students started to try. It seemed very difficult, but to Harry, well he had been doing for years without a wand. How hard could it be with one...right? Seamus was swishing and flicking but his feather was not going anywhere, he became impatient and prodded it with the tip of his wand and set fire to it. Harry put it out with his hat and then looked over at Ron and Hermione.

" _Wingardium Leviosa_!" Ron shouted, waving his long arms like a windmill.

"Try pronouncing it, Wing - gar- dium Levi - o - sa, make your 'gar' nice and long," Hermione offered kindly.

Ron sighed, they had done this enough times in the armory he knew by now to listen to her, but the fact she new that and he didn't still annoyed him some. He tried again, Hermione's way, and his feather lifted for a second before falling and he smiled at her.

Hermione then rolled up her sleeves, flicked her wand, and said, " _Wingardium Leviosa_ ,"

The feather rose off the desk and hovered about four feet above their heads.

"Oh, well done!" cried Professor Flitwick, clapping. "Everyone see here, Miss Granger's done it!"

"I think we need to follow her example," Harry said brushing off his hat, Seamus agreed.

Harry looked as his feather. He closed his eyes, and centered himself. He imagined his wand pulling the white magic from his core as he swished and flicked and said:

" _Wingardium Leviosa!"_

The feather shot up in the air and it took Harry a second to get it under his control. Then it was moving to wherever he directed it with his wand. It wasn't long before there were feathers floating all over the classroom, even Neville got his up after a few tries and Seamus, once he acquired a new feather, managed to get his off his desk as well. Hermione was going around helping some of the other students who were struggling and most were able to accomplish it by the end of class.

"A most excellent class," Flitwick beamed. "A most excellent class, two points to Ms. Granger for her excellent assistance."

The friends were heading off for class when a couple of other female Gryffindor first years, a redhead and a girl called Fay, pushed past them.

"I bet it's not just homework she's helping them with every evening up in their room," one of them said as they brushed past.

The three boys looked at Hermione who was looking down at her shoes, she mumbled something about needed the loo and ran off. The three boys looked at each other not sure what to do. They had never considered taking Hermione up to their dorm room would have caused a problem. When Harry stopped to think about, he had never seen Hermione with the girls from her dorm room. She was either with them, or by herself.

Hermione didn't turn up for the next class and wasn't seen all afternoon. On their way down to the Great Hall for the Halloween feast, Harry, Ron and Neville overheard Parvati Patil telling her friend Lavender that Hermione was crying in the girls' bathroom and wanted to be left alone. It appeared as though they had tried to talk to her, but she didn't want to talk to them. They seemed to feel bad, as if they had not been as nice to her as they should've been, too. Harry was getting upset and wanted to go find Hermione himself, when they walked into the Great Hall.

A thousand live bats fluttered from the walls and ceiling while a thousand more swooped over the table is low black clouds, making the candles in the pumpkins stutter. The feast appeared suddenly on the golden plates, as it had at the start of term banquet.

Harry leaned over to Ron to ask if they should go find Hermione when Professor Quirrell came sprinting into the hall, his turban askew and terror on his face. Everyone stared as he reached Professor Dumbledore's chair slumped against the table, and gasped, "Troll- in the dungeons - thought you ought to know."

He then sank to the floor in a dead faint.

There was an uproar. It took several purple firecrackers exploding from the end of Professor Dumbledore's wand to bring silence.

"Prefects," he rumbled, "lead your Houses back to the dormitories immediately!"

Percy was in his element.

"Follow me! Stick together, first years! No need to fear the troll if you follow my orders! Stay close behind me, now. Make way, first years coming through! Excuse me, I'm a Prefect!"

"How could a troll get in?" Harry asked as they climbed the stairs.

"Don't ask me, they're suppose to be really stupid," said Ron. "Maybe Peeves let it in for a Halloween joke.

The passes different groups of people hurrying in different directions. As they jostled their way through a crowd of confused Hufflepuffs, Harry suddenly grabbed Ron's and Neville's arms.

"I've just thought - Hermione."

"What about her," Neville asked.

"She doesn't know about the troll."

Ron bit his lip.

"Oh, all right," he snapped. "But Percy better not see us."

Ducking down the three of them joined the Hufflepuffs going the other way, slipped down a deserted side corridor, and hurried off toward the girls' bathroom. They had just turned the corner when they heard quick footsteps behind them.

"Percy!" hissed Ron, pulling the other two behind a large stone griffin.

Peering around it, however, they not Percy but Snape. He crossed the corridor and disappeared from view.

"What's he doing?" Harry whispered. "Why isn't he down in the dungeons with the rest of the reachers?"

"Search me?" Ron shrugged.

Quietly as possible, they crept along the next corridor after Snape's fading footsteps.

"He's heading for the third floor," Harry said, but Neville waved his hand in front of his nose looking accusingly at Ron.

Ron sniffed and make a face, "Can you smell something?"

It was Harry's turn to sniff and a foul stench reached his nostrils, a mixture of old socks and the kind of public toilet no one seems to clean.

And then they heard it - a low grunting, and the shuffling footfalls of gigantic feet. Neville whimpered. Ron pointed - at the end of a passage to the left, something huge was moving toward them. They shrank into the shadows and watched as it emerged into a patch of moonlight.

It was a horrible sight. Twelve feet tall, its skin was dull, granite gray, its great lumpy body like a boulder with its small bald head perched on top like a coconut. It had short legs thick as tree trunks with flat, horny feet. The smell coming from it was incredible. It was holding a huge wooden club, which dragged along the floor because its arms were so long.

The troll stopped next to a doorway and peered inside. It waggled its long ears, making up its tiny mind, then slouched slowly into the room.

"The key's in the lock," Harry muttered. "We could lock it in."

"Good idea," said Ron nervously. Neville seemed unable to speak, so he nodded.

The three edged toward the open door, mouths dry, praying the troll wasn't about to come out of it. With one great leap, Harry managed to grab the key, slam the door, and lock it.

"Yes!"

Flushed with their victory, they started to run back up the passage, but as they reached the corner they heard something that made their hearts stop - a high, petrified scream - and it was coming from the chamber they'd just locked up.

"Oh, no," said Ron, pale as the Bloody Baron as he turned.

"It's the girls' bathroom!" Harry gasped tuning on the spot.

"Hermione!" Neville realized running after them.

It was the last thing they wanted to do, but what choice did they have? Running at full speed back to the door they returned as fast as they could. Harry fumbled with the key, then wrenched the door open and they ran inside.

Hermione was shrinking against the wall opposite, looking as if she were about to faint. The troll was advancing on her, knocking the sinks off the wall as he went. Harry took a running charge and slid on the wet slick floor just to the side of the troll to reach Hermione in the nick of time. Releasing his magic he threw his arms up over his head, like he did when Dudley was beating on him and imagined the most powerful shield he could. When the troll's club came down in it, it shimmered, but held. For a second everyone was confused. Harry looked at his two friends standing behind the troll looking shocked.

"Confuse it!" Harry cried desperately to them.

Ron and Neville seemed to snap out of it and they ran to opposite sides of the room. Ron, seizing a tap, threw it as hard as he could against the wall.

The troll read to strike Hermione and Harry again, stopped and turned around to see what had made the noise. Its mean little eyes saw Ron. It hesitated, then made toward him instead, lifting his club as it went.

"Aggh," said Neville launching a chunk of sink at the troll from his angle and connecting with the beasts ear.

Again the beast stopped and turned to face Neville. Harry wanted to run, but his shield had trapped the two of them and he couldn't get it to come down for some reason.

"Run," he yelled to his friends as Hermione held onto him for dear life.

The shouting and the echoes seemed to be driving the troll berserk. It roared again and started towards Neville, who was nearest and had no means of escape.

Ron threw a few things at him and yelled, but he didn't change his course. Desperate he took a great running jump and managed to fasten his arms around the troll's neck from behind. The troll couldn't fell Ron hanging there, but even a troll will notice if you stick a long bit of wood up its nose and with sickening snap it went right up the trolls nostril.

Howling with pain, the troll twisted and flailed its club, with Ron hanging on for dear life; any second, the troll was going to rip him off or beat him with that club.

Neville watched not knowing what to do he simply cried the first spell that came to his mind: " _Wingardium Leviosa!_ "

The club flew suddenly out of the troll's hand, rose high, high up into the air, turned slowly over - and dropped, with a sickening crack, onto its owner's head. The troll swayed on the spot and then fell flat on his face, with a thud that made the whole room tremble.

Ron got to his feet. He was shaking and out of breath. Neville was standing there with his wand still raised, staring in disbelief at what he had just done. Harry looked at his shield, and then at the now visible bracelet and ring and cradled his arm between his knees and chest. He and Hermione were trapped in his shield. Water was still spraying everywhere from the broken sinks.

It was Hermione who spoke first.

"Is it - dead?

"I don't think so," Ron said. "Just knocked out, I think."

Ron bent down and pulled his wand out of the troll's nose. It was covered in was looked like lumpy gray glue and obviously broken in two, the two parts held together by a unicorn hair and troll boogers.

Ron looked deflated.

A sudden slamming and loud footsteps made the three of them look up. They hadn't realized what a racket they had been making, but of course, someone downstairs must have heard the crashes and the troll's roars. A moment later, Professor McGonagall had come bursting into the room, followed by Snape, with Quirrell bring up the rear. Quirrell took one look at the troll, let out a faint whimper, and sat quickly down on a toilet, clutching his heart.

Snape bent over the troll looking at Harry and trying to figure out what had happened. Professor McGonagall was looking at the four of them and they had never seen her so angry. Her lips were white. Any hopes of winning points for this were fading quickly.

"What on earth were you thinking of?" said Professor McGonagall, with a cold fury in her voice looking between them. "You're lucky you weren't killed. Why aren't you in your dormitory?" she demanded.

Snape gave Harry a look, as if to ask the same thing. Harry looked at the floor, he wished Neville would lower his wand, he was still frozen in place.

"Please, Professor McGonagall - they were looking for me."

"Mrs. Granger!"

Hermione wanted to stand, tried to stand, but the shield would not let her, so she told her story from the wet floor beside Harry.

"I wasn't at the feast, I was using the bathroom. They knew I wouldn't know, they came to get me, to take me back to the dormitory, but the troll … it found me first. I would be dead if not for them."

Neville finally lowered his wand and spoke.

"I knocked out a troll," he said ashen white.

McGonagall took control of the situation.

"Weasley, drop that," she said motioning to his booger covered broken wand. "Take Neville, and Professor Quirrell to the hospital wing and have Madam Pomfrey make sure you are all fine."

The three of them hobbled off together and then she turned her attention to Snape, who, now that Quirrell was gone, took out his wand and was casting spells over the shield.

"What is it Severus?" McGonagall asked looking toward the door to make sure that the others were out of hearing range.

"A most powerful shield of some kind, strongest I've seen."

"How are you maintaining it Potter?" McGonagall asked.

"I don't know," Harry pleaded. "We ran in here, the troll was raising his club to hit Hermione I ran, slid across the wet floor, fell to my knees, and threw up my hands to protect us."

"You know better," Snape hissed at him.

He looked down.

"There wasn't time," he muttered. "I had to do something."

Just then Albus Dumbledore came in looking over the situation.

"I saw the other three to hospital wing," Dumbledore told them as he walked over and knelt down beside the two kids.

"It seems you have some very kind friends, Ms. Granger." He said looking at her.

"Yes," Hermione agreed. "They saved my life." Tears starting to fall.

"Harry, place your hand on the shield, and call the magic back to your core. Do it slowly and piece by piece, not all at once," he said knowly.

Harry sighed, realizing that was what he had been doing wrong. He reached up his bracelet in full view and placed his hand on his invisible shield. He closed his eyes and went to his center. There was magic flying in the air and little by little he placed it back into his pillar. When he opened his eyes, he pushed his hand out. The shield was gone and he stood up taking Hermione up with him.

Snape took Harry's hand and recast the spell that make his bracelet and ring invisible again.

"Come you two, let's have Madam Pomfrey look you over. We will leave these two to deal with this stinky mess," McGonagal said referring to Dumbledore and Snape.

Harry saw Dumbledore casting spells to repair the bathroom and Snape cast a spell that was retrieving what was left of Ron's wand. Once they were gone, Dumbledore spoke to Snape as they worked.

"That was quite a shield," Dumbledore mused.

"It was impulsiveness which could have gotten his head smashed," Snape barked back placing the now cleaned pieces of Ron's wand on a repaired sink edge.

"But instead it saved a friend," Dumbledore pointed out.

Snape sighed as he watched Dumbledore shrink the troll down to the size of a barbie doll and float it to his pocket.

"I'll take care of this, you go check on our furry guard."

Snape nodded and left the restroom, Dumbledore taking one more look around to make sure everything was in its place before taking the pieces of Ron's wand and heading out himself.

The four friends reunited in the hospital wing before being given a clean bill of health and sent off to their dorms. The common room was packed and noisy. Everyone was eating the food that had been sent up and paid the first years no mind as they collected some food and headed up to the boys' dorm. The rest of the common room was in full party mode, but these four didn't feel up to it. Soon they were in the storage room sitting around their study table eating, they were all lost in their own thoughts about what had happened that evening. Neville was the first to say he needed to go to bed, Madam Pomfrey had given him a calming potion and it was making him tired.

"Hey Neville," Hermione said as he stood. "Thanks, that was a great spell."

Neville smiled. "Yeah, I guess I can do it."

"Yeah, you can," Ron said starting on his dessert plate.

"Says the guy that jumped on a troll's back," Harry reminded Ron.

"You're the one who skated across the bathroom, past the troll to get to Hermione," Neville added.

"I just screamed," Hermione added.

They all laughed and the tension in the group resolved. Ron headed up as well and Hermione started piling the dishes for Franny.

"Am I allowed to ask about the bracelet?" Hermione said to Harry as he helped.

Harry looked at her and shrugged.

"I survived the Dursleys by using my magic as a kid. I don't know I wasn't supposed too," he added.

"Your core," Hermione realized. "I've read about that."

Harry nodded.

"Add that and the fact that my mom gave her magic to survive Voldemort and I'm a control mess. It keeps from doing accidental magic and helps my control."

"It's beautiful," Hermione said. "Do you know what the markings mean?"

He shook his head no, "they're goblin."

"Oh," Hermione said now understanding why Harry wanted to learn.

"The goblin where really freaked out when it turned up. The started calling me Lord Potter and I got the ring. It's apparently a really ancient goblin made artifact. Hundreds and hundreds of years old. They kinda like me now."

"That's how you got the goblin books and my parent's got a deal."

Harry nodded.

"Can you not tell anyone? That's all I need, Malfoy finding out and walking around the castle saying I can't even control my magic."

"What made the charm end? And how does Snape know?"

Harry sighed, "me using more than a certain level of magic cancels the charm, and Snape was the one who came to my house, like Professor Sintra's to yours. He removed me from my aunts house. They weren't treating me well," he mumbled as he looked at the floor. "He's the one who took me to the bank when all this happened. He's really not as bad as he seems. He plays it up during class to look good for the Slytherins. Detentions are actually really nice. He teaches me things, like the spell to protect the vials from breaking."

Hermione was too shocked to speak, Snape nice? Really? She decided to think about that later.

"Thanks for saving me Harry," she said heading for the stairs.

"Any time," he said returning her smile.

It was still early by their regular schedule, but it had not been a regular day. It was then that Franny popped in. Harry knew instantly that it was not to get the dishes.

"Master Snape, said for me to bring you to him. I'm to make it look like you have gone to bed."

"How do I get out?" Harry asked now worried.

"Franny can take you," she said walking up and grabbing his leg.

The next instant he was in a room he'd never seen before. Snape was sitting in an armchair by the first, just like at home. Only this time his leg was up on an ottoman with a bandage on it. Harry could see blood on the bandage, but Snape did not appear to be bothered by it.

"What time do you go to bed Potter?" Snape said snapping his book shut.

Harry shrugged, "is not late, the party is still going on in the common room."

"Blasted Gryffindors," he said offering Harry the chair opposite him.

"I wanted to talk to you about what happened tonight," he said moving and wincing a bit.

"What happened to your leg?" Harry asked concerned.

"It's not a big deal, it will heal," he assured him.

Harry saw the blood on the bandage growing and knelt down to add another square of gauze to the wrapping.

"It's bleeding, you should go to Madam Pomfrey."

"I can't," said Snape. "She'd ask questions."

"Like where you got this?" Harry asked applying a little pressure. He could tell it caused pain, but it would help with the bleeding.

"Exactly like that, Potter."

Harry hated all the secrets, he was tired of all the half truths. Why, why can't people just say what needs to be said? He decided to start with himself.

"So does it have anything to do with the three-headed-dog guarding whatever Hagrid took from Gringott on my birthday, before the bank was broken into?

Snape leaned back in his chair and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Can I fix your leg?" Harry asked.

"Sure," Snape said expecting him to bandage it.

When he felt a warmth of magic on his leg his eyes snapped open and he saw Harry with his hand resting on his injury and magic dancing in the air around him. His hand was glowing and Snape could feel the magic working. It lasted for just a few seconds and then Harry removed his hand. His bracelet was visible again, but he didn't care; Snape would fix it. He moved the bloody gauze; Snape's leg was better.

"Better?" Harry asked looking at Snape.

"We really have to do something about your savior complex," Snape said inspecting his leg.

Harry smiled at the joke and returned to his seat. Snape vanished the bloody gauze and repaired his pant leg, then sat back to think.

"So, is Hermione trustworthy?" he asked.

"Yes," Harry assured him. "The others didn't notice, I don't think."

"Good," Snape nodded. "How much did you tell her?"

"I told her about the goblins, the bracelet, the ring, and that you were there for it; so you know about it. I asked for her help with the goblin language. She's really smart, and I've gotten the point where I need help. She'd learned French and said she would help."

"I suppose that was inevitable. She certainly is helping to keep the three of you at the top of the class. I would not have expected that from Neville. What he did tonight was nothing short of miraculous."

"Speaking of that, Ron's wand broke. Can I get him a new one?" Harry asked. "He jumped on that troll's back. It was amazing," Harry said remembering.

Snape made a face, "I expected as much, I will let the powers that be know. However, I don't think there will be any problem with Ron securing a new wand. The one he was using was deplorable."

"It was a hand-me-down. I want to make sure he gets a brand new one, like Neville."

Snape nodded, he understood.

"How did you know about the three-headed-dog and the other … stuff?"

"Just putting all the pieces together. I guess the troll was a distraction, huh?"

"That was our concern. Yes, I went there first. I happened upon Quirrell heading down to the noise and drug him with me. McGonagall beat us there. We didn't know there were students still out."

"Did anyone get in?" Harry asked.

"No," Snape said. "I checked after, and that wretched dog gave me that as a thank you!"

He said motioning to his leg.

"Quirrell was there?" Harry picked up.

"Yes, he seems to be in all the wrong places at all the right times."

Harry thought for a few minutes.

"He's faking isn't he. Like you do with me."

"That's our best theory. I am trying to persuade him to trust me. I have not been successful thus far."

They sat pondering to themselves for a few minutes. Harry curled up in the chair. He woke up in his own bed the next morning with no idea how he got there.


	14. Chapter 14 Quidditch

Chapter 14

Quidditch

It was less than twenty-four hours later when McGonagall accompanied Ron to Diagon Alley to meet his mother, Molly Weasley. When he returned, he was on cloud nine. He had a brand new wand from _Ollivanders_. It was made of willow, 14" long, and had a unicorn hair as a core. He was so pleased, his parents even bought him some brand new robes. McGonagall was forced to tell the story of what had happened, and Ron's involvement in the matter. Molly Weasley was shocked, pleased, and angry at her son all at the same time. In the end, McGonagall assured Molly Ron was doing well, his grades were some of the best in the class, and this was simply friends trying to help a fellow friend. Ron was smothered in mother hugs and kisses and sent off back to Hogwarts with McGonagall.

As they entered November, the weather turned very cold. The mountains around the school became icy gray and the lake like chilled steel. Every morning the ground was covered in frost. Hagrid could be seen from the upstairs windows defrosting broomsticks on the Quidditch field, bundled up in a long moleskin overcoat, rabbit fur gloves, and enormous beaver skin boots.

The Quidditch season had begun. On Saturday, Harry would be playing in his first match after weeks of training: Gryffindor versus Slytherin. If Gryffindor won, they would move up into second place in the house championship.

Hardly anyone had seen Harry play because Wood had decided that, as their secret weapon, Harry should be kept, well, secret. But the news he was playing seeker had leaked out somehow, and Harry didn't know which was worse - people telling him he'd be brilliant or people telling him they'd be running around underneath him holding a mattress.

It was really lucky Harry had Hermione helping him. He didn't know how he'd have gotten through all his homework without her, what with all the last-minute Quidditch practice Wood was making them do. She had also lent him _Quidditch Through the Ages_ , which turned out to be a very interesting read.

Harry learned there were seven hundred ways of committing a Quidditch foul, and all of them had happened during a World Cup match in 1473; Seekers were usually the smallest and fastest players, and most serious Quidditch accidents seemed to happen to them; although people rarely died playing Quidditch, referees had been known to vanish and turn up months later in the Sahara Desert.

Since the troll incident, Hermione had become a bit more relaxed about breaking rules and she was much easier to live with and hang around. The day before Harry's first Quidditch match the four of them were out in the freezing courtyard during break, and she had conjured them up a bright blue flame which could be carried around in a jam jar. They were standing with their backs to it, getting warm, when Snape crossed the yard. He seemed in a foul mood. Harry, Ron, Neville, and Hermione moved closer together to block the fire from view, they were sure it wouldn't be allowed. Unfortunately, something about their guilty faces caught Snape's eye. He changed course toward them. He hadn't seen the fire, but he seemed to be looking for a reason to tell them off.

"What's that you've got there, Potter?"

It was _Quidditch Through the Ages._ Harry showed him.

"Library books are not to be taken outside of the school," said Snape. "Give it to me. Five points from Gryffindor."

"He's just made that rule up," Harry muttered angrily as Snape marched away.

"I hope he freezes in his dungeons," Ron muttered in support.

The Gryffindor common room was very noisy that evening. Harry, Ron, Neville, and Hermione sat together next to a window. Hermione was checking Harry, Neville and Ron's Charms homework. She would never let them copy ("How would you learn?"), but by asking her to read through it afterwards they got the right answers anyway.

Harry felt restless. He wanted _Quidditch Through the Ages_ back, to take his mind off his nerves about tomorrow. Why should he act afraid of Snape? Getting up he told the others he was going to go ask Snape for his book back, no one wanted to go with him.

"Better you than me," Ron said, but Harry thought if he asked in front of other teachers Snape would have to give the book back to him. He was certain there was a reason he had gone through the effort to take it in the first place.

He made his way down to the staff room and knocked. There was no answer. He knocked again.

The door was opened by Professor Sintra.

"Why, Harry, what brings you here?" she asked pleasantly.

"Nice to see you," he smiled at her. "I was looking for Professor Snap, actually."

"Well," she said moving aside, "please come in, he's right here."

Snape was sitting in an armchair and it appeared Sintra had been in the one next to him. It made Harry wonder if they had been talking. He decided to get to the point.

"I was wondering if I could have my book back, sir?" Harry asked Snape.

Snape looked around the room. He pulled his wand and cast a few spells. Harry noticed a picture, once moving, froze.

"Since you came looking for it before I could slip my note into it. I wanted to tell you, good luck on the game tomorrow, and to be sure to be careful, Mr. Potter," he finished, handing him the book.

"How are your meditation times going Harry?" Professor Sintra inquired.

"Fine," Harry told her. "I have had pretty good control. There's only been a time or two when things have gone wonky and the bracelet has had to help. There are times I've used wandless magic and it's been...okay. I couldn't undo it once, and Dumbledore had to walk me through it."

"So I've been told. Pretty impressive shield," she said.

"Pretty big troll," Harry countered.

They both smiled and Harry excused himself running back up to his room. The others were amazed he had returned with the book. Harry was pleased to see Snape act himself, and to talk with Sintra. It had been a while since he had seen her.

Harry went to bed with his head spinning, he couldn't sleep. He needed to sleep he had his first Quidditch match in a few hours - but seeing Snape and Sintra sitting together like that - it was putting other thoughts in his head.

The next morning dawned very bright and cold. The Great Hall was full of the delicious smell of fried sausages and the cheerful chatter of everyone looking forward to a good Quidditch match.

"You've got to eat some breakfast."

"I don't want anything."

"Just a bit of toast," wheeled Hermione.

"I'm not hungry."

Harry felt terrible. In an hour's time he'd be walking onto the field.

"Harry, you need your strength," said Seamus Finnigan. "Seekers are always the ones who get clobbered by the other team."

"Thanks, Seamus," said Harry, watching Seamus pile ketchup on his sausages.

By eleven o'clock the whole school seemed to be out in the stands around the Quidditch pitch. Many students had binoculars. The seats might have been raised high in the air, but it was still difficult to see what was going on sometimes.

Ron and Hermione joined Neville, Seamus, and Dean the West Ham fan up in the top row. As a surprise for Harry, they had painted a large banner on one the sheets Scabbers had ruined. It said Potter for President, and Dean, who was good at drawing, had done a large Gryffindor lion underneath. Then Hermione had performed a tricky little charm so the paint flashed different colors.

Meanwhile, in the locker room, Harry and the rest of the team were changing into their scarlet Quidditch robes (Slytherin would be playing in green).

Wood cleared his throat for silence.

"Okay men," he said.

"And women," said Chaser Angelina Johnson.

"And women," Wood agreed. "This is it."

"The big one," said Fred Weasley.

"The one we've all been waiting for," said George.

"We know Oliver's speech by heart," Fred told Harry, "we were on the team last year."

"Shut up, you two," said Wood. "This is the best team Gryffindor's had in years. We're going to win. I know it."

He glared at them all as if to say, "Or else."

"Right. It's time. Good luck, all of you."

Harry followed Fred and George out of the locker room and, hoping his knees weren't going to give way, walked onto the field to loud cheers.

Madam Hooch was refereeing. She stood in the middle of the field waiting for the two teams, her broom in her hand.

"Now I want a nice fair game, all of you," she said, once they were all gathered around her. Harry noticed she seemed to be speaking particularly to the Slytherin Captain, Marcus Flint, a sixth year. Harry thought Flint looked as if he had some troll blood in him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the fluttering banner high above, flashing Potter for President over the crowd. His heart skipped. He had friends. He felt braver.

"Mount your brooms, please."

Harry clambered onto his Nimbus Two Thousand.

Madam Hooch gave a loud blast on her silver whistle.

Fifteen brooms rose up, high, high into the air. They were off.

"And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor - what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too - "

"JORDAN!"

"Sorry, Professor."

The Weasley twins' friend, Lee Jordan, was doing the commentary for the match, closely watched by Professor McGonagall.

"And she's really belting along up there, a neat pass to Alicia Spinnet, a good find for Oliver Wood's team, last year only a reserve - back to Johnson and - no, the Slytherins have taken the Quaffle, Slytherin Captain Marcus Flint gains the Quaffle and off he goes - Flint flying like an eagle up there - he's going to sc- no, stopped by an excellent move by Gryffindor Keeper Wood and the Gryffindors take the Quaffle - that's Chaser Katie Bell of Gryffindor there, nice dive around Flint, off up the field and - OUCH - that must have hurt, hit in the back of the head by a Bludger - Quaffle taken by the Slytherins - that's Adrian Pucey speeding off toward the goal posts, but he's blocked by a second Bludger - sent his way by Fred or George Weasley, can't tell which - nice play by the Gryffindor Beater, anyway, and Johnson back in possession of the Quaffle, a clear field ahead and off she goes - she's really flying - dodges a speeding Bludger - the goals posts are ahead - come on, now, Angelina - Keeper Bletchley dives - misses - GRYFFINDORS SCORE!"

Gryffindor cheer filled the cold air, with howls and moans from the Slytherins.

"Budge up there, move along.

"Hagrid!"

Ron and Hermione squeezed together to give Hagrid enough space to join them.

"Bin watchin' from me hut," said Hagrid, patting a large pair of binoculars around his neck, "But it isn't the same as bein' in the crowd. No sign of the Snitch yet, eh?

"Nope," said Ron. "Harry hasn't had much to do yet."

"Kept outta trouble, though, that's somethin'," said Hagrid, raising his binoculars and peering skyward at the speck that was Harry.

Way up above them. Harry was gliding over the dame, squinting about for some sign of the Snitch. This was part of his and Wood's game plan.

"Keep out if the way until you catch sight of the Snitch," Wood had said. "We don't want you attacked before you have to be."

When Angelina had scored, Harry had done a couple of loop-the-loops to let off his feelings. Now he was back to staring around for the Snitch. Once he caught sight of a flash of gold, but it was just a reflection from one of the Weasley's wristwatches, and once a Bludger decided to come pelting his way, more like a cannonball than anything, but Harry dodged it and Fred Weasley came chasing after it.

"All right there, Harry?" he had time to yell, as he beat the Bludger furiously toward Marcus Flint.

"Slytherin in possession," Lee Jordan was saying, "Chaser Pucey ducks to Bludgers, two Weasley's, and Chaser Bell, and speeds toward the - wait a moment - was that the Snitch?"

A murmur ran through the crowd as Adrian Pucey dropped the Quaffle, too busy looking over his shoulder at the flash of gold that had passed his left ear.

Harry saw it. In a great rush of excitement he dived downward after the streak of gold. Slytherin seeker Terence Higgs had seen it, too. Neck and neck they hurtled toward the Snitch - all the Chasers seemed to have forgotten what they were supposed to be doing as they hung in midair to watch.

Harry was faster than Higgs - he could see the little round ball wings fluttering, darting up ahead - he put on an extra spurt of speed.

WHAM! A roar of rage echoed from the Gryffindors below - Marcus Flint had clocked Harry on purpose, and Harry's broom spun off course, Harry holding on for dear life.

"Foul!" screamed the Gryffindors.

Madam Hooch spoke angrily to Flint and then ordered a free shot at the goal posts for Gryffindor. But in all the confusion, of course, the Golden Snitch had disappeared from sight again.

Down in the stand Dean Thomas was yelling, "Send him off, ref! Red card!"

"What are you talking about, Dean!" said Ron.

"Red card!" said Dean furiously. "In soccer you get shown the red card and you're out of the game!"

"But this isn't soccer, Dean," Ron reminded him.

Hagrid, however, was on Dean's side.

"They oughta change the rules. Flint coulda knocked Harry outta the air."

Lee Jordan was finding it difficult not to take sides.

"So - after that obvious and disgusting bit of cheating - "

"Jordan!" growled Professor McGonagall.

"I mean, after that open and revolting foul -"

"Jordan, I am warning you -"

"All right, all right. Flint nearly kills the Gryffindor Seeker, which could happen to anyone, I'm sure, so a penalty to Gryffindor, taken by Spinnet, who puts it aways, no trouble, and we continue play, Gryffindor still in possession."

It was as Harry dodged another Bludger, which went spinnin dangerously past his head, that it happened. His broom gave a sudden, frightening lurch. For a split second, he thought he was going to fall. He gripped the broom tightly with both hands and knees. He'd never felt anything like this.

It happened again. It was as though the broon was trying to buck him off. But Nimbus Two Thousands did not suddenly decided to buck their riders off. Harry tried to turn back toward the Gryffindor goal posts - he had half a mind to ask Wood to call a time-out - and then he realized his broom was completely out of his control. He couldn't turn it. He couldn't direct it at all. It was zigzagging through the air, and every now and then making violent swishing movements which almost unseated him.

Lee was still commentating.

"Slytherin in possession - Flint with the Quaffle - passes Spinnet - passes Bell - hit hard in the face by a Bludger, hope it broke his nose - only joking, Professor - Slytherin score - oh no …"

The Slytherin were cheering. No one seemed to have noticed Harry's broom was behaving strangely. It was carrying him slowly higher, away from the game, jerking and twitching as it went.

"Dunno what Harry thinks he's doing," Hagrid mumbled. He stared through his binoculars. "If I didn't know better, I'd say he'd lost control of his broom … but he can't have …"

Suddenly, people were pointing up at Harry all over the stands. His broom was starting to roll over and over, with him only just managing to hold on. Then the whole crowd gasped. Harry's broom had given a wild jerk and Harry swung off it. He was now dangling from it, holding on with only one hand.

"Did something happen to it when Flint blocked him?" Seamus whispered.

"Can't have," Hagrid said, his voice shaking. "Can't nothing interfere with a broomstick except powerful Dark Magic - no kid could do that to a Nimbus Two Thousand."

At these words, Hermione seized Hagrid's binoculars, but instead of looking up at Harry, she started looking frantically at the crowd.

"What are you doing?" moaned Ron, gray-faced.

"I knew it," Hermione gasped, "Snape and Quirrell - look."

Ron grabbed the binoculars. Snape and Quirrell were in the middle of the stands opposite them. They both had their eyes on Harry and were muttering nonstop under their breath.

"One of them is jinxing the broom," said Hermione.

"What should we do?"

"Leave it to me."

Before Ron could say another word, Hermione had disappeared. Ron turned the binoculars back on Harry. His broom was vibrating so hard, it was almost impossible for him to hang on much longer. The whole crowd was on its feet, watching, terrified, as the Weasleys flew up to try and pull Harry safely onto one of their brooms, but it was no good - every time they got near him, the broom would jump higher still. They dropped lower and circled beneath him, obviously hoping to catch him if he fell. Marcus Flint seized the Quaffle and scored five times without anyone noticing. Harry was trying to hold on. He was sure he could make it to one of the twins if needed, but he did NOT want to do wandless magic in front of literally the ENTIRE school.

"Come on, Hermione," Ron muttered desperately.

Hermione had fought her way across to the stand where they teachers were, and was now racing along the row behind Snape. She knocked Quirrell headfirst into the row in front. Reaching Snape, she crouched down, pulled out her wand, and whispered a few well-chosen words. Bright blue flames hot from her wand onto the hem of Snape's robes.

It took perhaps thirty seconds for Snape to realize he was on fire. A sudden yelp told her she had done her job. Scooping the fire off him into the little jar in her pocket, she scrambled back along the row - Snape would never know what had happened.

It was enough. Up in the air, Harry was suddenly able to clamber back on to his broom.

"Neville, you can look!" Ron said. Neville had been hiding his face in Hagrid's jacket too nervous to see someone else fall off a broom.

Harry was speeding toward the ground when the crowd saw him clap his hands to his mouth as though he was about to be sick - he hit the field on all fours - coughed - and something gold fell into his hand.

"I've got the Snitch!" he shouted, waving it above his head, and the game ended in complete confusion.

"He didn't catch it, he nearly swallowed it," Flint was still howling twenty minutes later, but it made no difference - Harry hadn't broken any rules and Lee Jordan was still happily shouting the results - Gryffindor had won by one hundred and seventy points to sixty. Harry heard none of this, though. He was being made a cup of strong tea back in Hagrid's hut, with Ron, Neville and Hermione.

"It was Snape," Ron was trying to explain. "Hermione and I saw him! He was cursing your broomstick, muttering, he wouldn't take his eyes off of you."

"So was Quirrell," Hermione explained. "One could have been muttering a counter curse."

"Why would any of the teachers do somethin' like that," Hagrid said. He had not heard a word of their conversation in the stands.

Harry looked at his friends and decided to tell them the truth.

"If there was someone cursing the broom it had to be Quirrell, not Snape," Harry said with absolution.

Ron and Neville looked at him in disbelief. Harry was standing up for Snape!

"I found out Quirrell was trying to get to the three headed-dog on Halloween. The reason he came to the bathroom was because Snape dragged him along. Snape went there to head him off. The troll was a distraction," Harry took a sip of the tea. Ron and Neville did not look convinced, Hermione looked concerned.

Hagrid dropped the teapot.

"How do you know about Fluffy?" he asked.

"Fluffy?"

"Yeah, - he's mine - bought him off a Greek chappie I met in the pub las' year - I lent him to Dumbledore to guard the -"

"Yes?" said Harry eagerly.

"Now don't ask me anymore," said Hagrid gruffy. "That's top secret, that is."

"But someone is trying to steal it," Harry said.

"Rubbish," said Hagrid again, "They are both Hogwarts' Professors."

"So why did one of them just try to kill Harry?" Hermione offered. "I know a jinx when I see one, Hagrid. I've read all about them. You've got to keep eye contact, and neither of them were blinking at all. I saw it with my own eyes!"

"I'm tellin' yeh, yer wrong!" said Hagrid hotly. "I don't know why Harry's broom acted like that, but Snape wouldn't try a' kill a student and Quirrell is too chicken! Now, listen to me, all yeh - yer meddlin' in things that don't concern yeh. It's dangerous. You forget that dog, an' you forget what it's guardin', that's between Professor Dumbledore an' Nicolas Flamel -"

"Aha!" said Harry, "so there's someone called Nicolas Flamel involved, is there?"

Hagrid looked furious with himself and hurried the the four of them out of his hut. They soon joined the party in the Gryffindor common room. The twins left and returned with trays full of food for everyone. Some hours later Harry crawled into bed. As soon as he pulled his drapes closed, Franny appeared. He held out his hand and she took him to Snape.

"Show off," Snape said as soon as he had sat down.

"I almost swallowed it!" Harry said in his defense. "Thanks for doing the counter jinx by the way."

"Humph," Snape said sipping his tea. "Who was doing the jinx though?"

"According to Hermione, Quirrell." Harry supplied, "she knocked him over and set you on fire."

"She ruined by good robes," Snape complained. "I should take points for that, since I couldn't repair them. What did she use?"

"Probably her blue flames," Harry guessed.

"She can cast the Bluebell Flames?" Snape said. "That girl is too smart for her own good! It was good cover though, getting both of us."

"Can you ask Dumbledore and Nicolas Flamel to get that thing out of the school before it gets someone killed, mainly me!"

"Trust me, I've already had this talk with him, but I will have it again. Since you seem to keep finding out more," he said glaring at him.

"If we can figure out," Harry told him.

"So noted," Snape said sipping his tea.

Harry curled up in the blanket on the chair, did his mental homework staring into the fire, and then let sleep take him. There was a comfort being here with Snape, and he liked it.


	15. Chapter 15 The Mirror of Erised

Chapter 15

The Mirror of Erised

Christmas was coming. One morning in mid-December, Hogwarts woke to find itself covered in several feet of snow. The lake froze solid, and the Weasley twins were punished for bewitching several snowballs so they followed Quirrell around bouncing off the back of his turban. He was a pitiful teacher, and some of the student felt sorry for him. However, some rumors had been started about him from somewhere and the students of all houses were making life for him at Hogwarts miserable. It seemed for the once the students were united in one thing, the horrible DADA had to go.

The relentless winter storms then came, one after another relentless in their winter mission. The few owls which managed to battle their way through the stormy sky to deliver mail had to be nursed back to health by Hagrid before they could fly off again.

Everyone was ready for the holidays to hurry up and get here. While the Gryffindor common room and the Great Hall had roaring fires, the drafty corridors had become icy and a bitter wind rattled the windows in the classrooms. Worst of all were Professor Snape's classes down in the dungeons, where their breath rose in a mist before them and they kept as close as possible to their hot cauldrons.

"I do feel so sorry," said Draco Malfoy, one Potions class, "for all those people who have to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas because they're not wanted at home."

He was looking over at Harry as he spoke, Crabbe and Goyle chuckled on cue. Harry, who was measuring out powdered spine of lionfish, ignored them. Malfoy had been even more unpleasant than usual since the Quidditch match. Disgusted by the fact the Slytherins had lost, he had tried to get everyone laughing at how a wide-mouthed tree frog would be replacing Harry as Seeker next. Then he'd realized nobody had found this funny, because they were all so impressed at the way Harry had managed to stay on his bucking broomstick. So Malfoy, jealous and angry, had gone back to taunting Harry about having no proper family.

It was true Harry was staying at the castle for Christmas. Professor McGonagall had come around the week before, making a list of students who would be staying for the holidays. Haven spoken already with Severus about it, Harry signed up at once. He didn't feel sorry for himself at all; this would probably be the best Christmas he'd ever had. Ron and his brothers were staying, too, because Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were going to Romania to visit Charlie.

When they left the dungeons at the end of Potions, they found a large fir tree blocking the corridor ahead. Two enormous feet sticking out at the bottom and a loud puffing sound told them Hagrid was behind it.

"Hi, Hagrid, want any help?" Ron asked, sticking his head through the branches.

"Nah, I'm all right, thanks, Ron."

"Would you mind moving out of the way?" came Malfoy's cold drawl from behind them. "Are you trying to earn some extra money, Weasley? Hoping to be gamekeeper yourself when you leave Hogwarts, I suppose - that hut of Hagrid's must seem like a palace compared to what your family's used to."

Ron dived at Malfoy just as Snape came up the stairs.

"WEASLEY!"

Ron let go of the front of Malfoy's robes.

"He was provoked, Professor Snape," said Hagrid, sticking his huge hairy face out from behind the tree. "Malfoy was insultin' his family."

"Be that as it may, fighting is against Hogwarts rules, Hagrid," said Snape silkily. "Five point from Gryffindor, Weasley, and be grateful it isn't more. Move along, all of you."

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle pushed roughly past the tree, scattering needles everywhere and smirking.

"I'll get him," said Ron, grinding his teeth at Malfoy's back, "one of these days, I'll get him - "

"I hate him," said Harry agreeing.

"I hate them both," Ron said still seething, "Malfoy and Snape."

"Come on, cheer up, it's nearly Christmas," said Hagrid. "Tell yeh what, come with me an' see the Great Hall, looks a treat."

So the four of them followed Hagrid and his tree off to the Great Hall, where Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick were busy with the Christmas Decorations.

"Ah, Hagrid, the last tree - put it in the far corner, would you?" Flitwick asked as they walked in.

The hall looked spectacular. Festoons of holly and mistletoe hung all around the walls, and no less than twelve towering Christmas trees stood around the room, some sparkling with tiny icicles, some glittering with hundred of candles.

"How many days you got left until yer holidays?" Hagrid asked.

"Just one," said Hermione. "And that reminds me - Harry, Ron, Neville, we've got half an hour before lunch, we should be in the library.

"Oh yeah, you're right," said Ron, tearing his eyes away from Professor Flitwick, who had golden bubbles blossoming out of his wand and was trailing them over the branches of the new tree. Hermione had to grab Harry and Neville to get them moving. The Great Hall was something to see!

"The library?" said Hagrid, following then out of the hall. "Just before the holidays? Bit keen, aren't yeh?"

"Oh, we're not working," Harry told him brightly. "Ever since you mentioned Nicolas Flamel we've been trying to find out who he is?"

"You what?" Hagrid looked shocked. "Listen here - I've told yeh - drop it! It's nothin' to you what that dog's guardin'"

"We just want to know who Nicolas Flamel is, that's all," said Hermione.

"Unless you'd like to tell us and save us the trouble?" Harry added. "We must've been through hundred of books already and we can't find him anywhere - just give us a hint - I know I've read his name somewhere."

"I'm not sayin' nothin'," said Hagrid flatly. He'd already said too much.

"Just have to find out ourselves, then," said Ron to Neville, and they left Hagrid looking disgruntled, hurring off to the library.

They had indeed been searching books for Flamel's name ever since Hagrid had let it slip, because how else where they going to find out what the dog was guarding? The trouble was, it was very hard to know where to begin, not knowing what Flamel might have done to get himself into a book. He wasn't in _Great Wizards of the Twentieth Century_ , or _Notable Magical Names of Our Time_ ; he was missing, too, from _Important Modern Magical Discoveries_ , and _A Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry_. And then, of course, there was the sheer size of the library; tens of thousands of books; thousands of shelves; hundreds of narrow rows.

Hermione took out a list of subjects and titles she had decided to search while Ron and Neville strode off down a random row of books and started pulling them off the shelves at random. Harry wandered over to the Restricted Section. He had been wondering for a while if Flamel wasn't somewhere in there. Unfortunately, you needed a specially signed note from one of the teachers to look in any of the restricted books, and he knew he'd never get one. These were the books containing powerful Dark Magic never taught at Hogwarts, and only read by older students studying advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts.

"What are you looking for, boy?"

"Um," said Harry. "Books on magical artifacts," he said thinking quickly. "Goblin made if possible.

Madam Pince the librarian brandished a feather duster at him and looked at him carefully.

"Why would you want to know about something like that?" she quizzed him.

"Professor Binns has mentioned such items numerous times in the Goblin War stories. I wanted to learn more about them," Harry offered.

She didn't look like she totally believed him, but she lead the way. Harry followed her across the library to a dusty shelf and near the top she pointed out a collection of books.

"These would be your best bet," she said studying him again. "Anything, specific?"

"Hum," thought Harry, "not really, just curious as to what they were. Since I'll have time over the holidays to read."

She nodded at him and Harry picked out the three which looked the most promising to him, not that any made much sense, and headed to find the others; it was time to leave for lunch.

Harry and Hermione checked out some volumes and they headed off. The four of them had already agreed not to ask Madam Pince were they could find Flamel. They were sure she'd be able to tell them, but they couldn't risk the information getting back to the wrong people. What they really needed was a nice long search without Madam Pince breathing down their necks.

"You will keep looking while I'm away, won't you?" said Hermione. "And send me an owl if you find anything. Neville will do the same at the library at his house.

"And don't forget your parents," Ron reminded Hermione. "I'd be safe to ask them."

"Very safe, as they are dentists," Harry said knowingly, but Ron and Neville didn't seem to see why this was a silly idea. Hermione just shook her head.

Once the holidays had started, Ron and Harry were having too good of a time to think much about Flamel. They had the dormitory to themselves and the common room was far emptier than usual, so they were able to get the good armchairs by the fire. They sat by the hour eating anything they could spear on a toasting fork - bread, English muffins, marshmallows - and plotting ways of getting Malfoy expelled, which were fun to talk about even if they wouldn't work.

Harry spent his evening trunk study time looking through the artifacts books he had checked out from the library.

*I think I need to write another letter to Griphook to see if they know who may have made your bed,* he hissed to Sheila as he looked through one of the books.

One time Sheila had called it her 'bed' and Harry had liked it. So between them, they called Harry's bracelet her bed. The book Harry was looking at had the names of some of the creators of known goblin artifacts. There was Earnot the great goblin fabled to have made the sword Godric Gryffindor carried. He also liked the tiara for Rowena Ravenclaw, believed to goblin made as well, but now known by whom. Harry pulled out a fresh sheet of parchment and his goblin notes to try and write a letter. He also thought it might be safe to ask him a few other questions.

 _$December 23, 1991$_

 _$Great friend Griphook,$_

 _$I, Harry Potter, am learning hard at Hogwarts. Read book about artifacts from library. Want knowledge of maker of my artifact, Griphook know? Others learned more about my artifact?$_

 _$I, Harry Potter, sorry about item tried to take on my birthday. Know it now guard here. Nicolas Flamel need move it, why?"_

 _$I, Harry Potter, also need help speaking. No know how say sounds. Ideas?"_

 _$I, Harry Potter, happy here Hogwarts. Friends good. Play Quidditch, won match with Slytherin, am seeker.$_

 _$Fortune to you and family in new year, feast well, and plenty.$_

 _$May fortune favor you,$_

 _Lord Harry Potter_

Harry read the third copy of his attempt and decided it was the best he was going to be able to do. He hoped Griphook would be able to tell him something about Nicolas Flamel and he really did want to know the other information. He sealed it and placed it in his robe to send off as soon as the weather permitted.

Ron also started teaching Harry wizard chess over break. This was exactly like Muggle chess except the figures were alive, which made it more like directing troops in battle. Ron's set was very old and battered. Like everything else he owned, it has once belonged to someone else in the family - in this case, his grandfather. However, old chessmen weren't a drawback at all. Ron knew them so well he never had trouble getting them to do what he wanted.

Harry played with chessmen Seamus Finnigan had lent him, and they didn't trust him at all. He wasn't a very good player yet and they kept shouting different bits of advice at him, which was confusing. "Don't send me there, can't you see his knight? Send _him_ , we can afford to lose _him_."

On Christmas Eve, Harry went to bed looking forward to the next day for the food and fun, but not expecting much in the way of presents at all. He had just finished his mental homework when Franny appeared. He smiled at took a package from under is pillow and then took her hand. He found himself sitting his his chair across from Snape, the fire burning. He held clutched to him, his gift for Snape. Thank goodness for Hedwig and mail order services, or there would have been no way for him to do any shopping for his friends at all!

"Merry Christmas," he said holding out his gift.

Snape closed his book and turned to Harry taking the present from him.

"Open it," he said on the edge of his seat.

"You want me to open it now?" he asked.

"Yes!" he was assured.

Harry was waiting to see his reaction. He had searched long and hard for just the thing. He had written to Griphook for a list of all the potions texts in his family vault. He found the one he thought Snape would like best and had Griphook send it to him via Hedwig. He'd had if for weeks, just waiting to give it to Snape. He was certain he would not have this one, it was hundreds of years old. Plus he had sent Franny to make sure it was not at the house library or in his rooms at Hogwarts. He'd even checked the Hogwarts library and it wasn't there either. It also had a lot of theory on how create your own potions and had notes written in it from a previous owner/user which seemed to expound on those ideas.

Snape knew it was book and was certain it would be a potions book. No doubt one he had, or at least knew of and didn't find worth owning. He handed Harry his gift to him, and then he calmly opened the wrapping and was preparing to show the appropriate response. He raised an eyebrow when he saw the age of the book. He could see it was old, and turned to the first few pages. His eyes grew large in shock when he read the title and author, _Ancient Potions and Theories Lost to Time_ by Hildegard of Bingen.

"Do you have any idea what this is?" Snape finally asked looking at Harry still in utter disbelief at what he was holding.

Harry smiled, pleased he had found the right thing for the man he cared about most.

"I know it's old, important, and something you didn't already have. There are notes added to it too, from others who have used it."

This sent Snape flipping through the book and looking at what had been noted here and there. Harry was giddy with delight at Snape's fascination with the book. It was better than he could have hoped for. Finally, Snape closed the book and looked up at Harry. Snape would not be sleeping tonight, but it would have to wait.

"I am pleased with this gift Harry. It is more than I could have hoped for, and certainly more than I deserve, thank you," he said bowing his head slightly at him.

"You're welcome, I am so pleased you like it!" Harry said sincerely.

"Open your gift," Snape motioned.

Harry had completely forgotten it his gift giving glee, he tore off the wrappings and was meet with a kind of book of his own. It was a Muggle picture book. In it he found pictures from Snape's childhood, and most every picture included … his mother. It showed two young kids growing up together as friends. He saw pictures of his Evans grandparents and Snape's mother as well. There was even a happy looking Petunia often; he'd never seen her that happy, it was odd. As Harry turned the pages, there were only about ten, he watched the kids grow. The last two pages would have been in summer, between years at Hogwarts. The last page was both of the families together. It was more than Harry was ready for, he was crying without even realizing it.

"My mother knew my father was wizard," Snape said as explanation. "So she knew I was as well when accidental magic started happening. She was at the Muggle park near my childhood home with me when she witnessed your mother do some magic one day. Your grandmother was distraught and confused. She was sure there was something wrong with her daughter. My mother offered her friendship, and with time, an explanation as to her daughter's odd behaviors. They were mothers with magical children, raising them in a Muggle world. They became friends, and our families often did things together. That is how I have those. I thought they belonged with you."

Harry smiled at him, he wasn't sure what to say, so finally, he said: "I am pleased with this gift. It is more than I could have hoped for, and certainly more than I deserve, thank you," using Snape's own words.

"You're welcome, I am so pleased you like it," Snape returned in kind.

They each then ate the yummy treats Franny provided, which reminded Harry.

"Oh, Fanny, this is for you," Harry said pulling a small present from is pocket.

Franny looked taken aback and then at Snape as if to ask for permission.

"It is fine Franny, a simple gift of appreciation for all you do."

Franny nodded and then cautiously took the little package from Harry. She gently opened it. Inside was a little bracelet meant for a baby. Harry hoped it was small enough for her. He added her name in beads to the bracelet and it slowly changed to different colors if you touched it. Harry showed her how it worked and how to make the letters change if she wanted. She put it on, it fit! Harry was pleased, but Franny - well Franny looked like she had been given the crown jewels.

"Young master is too nice to Franny," she cried when she was finally able to speak.

The elf now seemed enamored to them, even more than before.

It was a few hours later when Harry fell asleep in the chair. He felt Snape pick him up and Franny pop them back to his room. He felt Snape place him in his bed, as he had many times before. He cuddled into his bed, and breathed a sigh as he felt himself falling deeper into sleep. Then he felt something he had never felt before. He was sure Snape had just moved his hand across his head and through is hair. Snape wasn't the kissing kind, Harry knew, but he figured this was his way; and Harry let sleep take him.

"Merry Christmas," said Ron sleepily as Harry scrambled out of bed and pulled on his bathrobe.

"You, too," said Harry. "Will you look at his? I've got some presents!"

"What did you expect, turnips?" said Ron, turning to his own pile, which was a lot bigger than Harry's.

Harry picked up the top parcel. It was wrapped in thick brown paper and scrawled across it was 'To Harry, From Hagrid'. Inside was a roughly cut wooden flute. Hagrid had obviously whittled it himself. Harry blew it - it sounded a bit like an owl.

"I think I know who that one's from," said Ron, turing a bit pink and pointing to a lumpy parcel. "My mom. I told her you didn't expect any presents and - oh, no," he groaned. "She's made you a Weasley sweater."

Harry had torn the parcel open to find a thick, hand-knitted sweater in emerald green and a large box of homemade fudge.

"Every year she makes us a sweater," said Ron, unwrapping his own, "and mine's _always_ maroon."

"That's really nice of her," said Harry, trying the fudge, which was very tasty.

His next present also contained candy - a large box of Chocolate Frogs from Hermione, yum.

Neville had sent him a book about the best Seekers of all time, awesome.

This left only one parcel. Harry picked it up and felt it. It was very light. He unwrapped it.

Something fluid and silvery gray went slithering to the floor where it lay in gleaming folds. Ron gasped.

"I've heard of those," he said in a hushed voice, dropping the box of Every Flavor Beans he'd gotten from Hermione. "If that's what I think it is - they're really rare, and really valuable."

"What is it?"

Harry picked up the shinning, silvery cloth from the floor. It was strange to the touch, like water woven into material.

"It's an invisibility cloak," said Ron, a look of awe on his face. "I'm sure it is - try it on."

Harry threw the cloak around his shoulders and Ron gave a yell.

"It is! Look down!"

Harry looked down at his feet, but they were gone. He dashed to the mirror. Sure enough, his reflection looked back at him, just his head suspended in midair, his body completely invisible. He pulled the cloak over his head and his reflection vanished completely.

"There's a note!" said Ron suddenly. "A note fell out of it!"

Harry pulled off the cloak and seized the letter. Written in narrow, loopy writing he had never seen before were the following words:

Your father left this in my possession

before he died. It is time it was returned

to you. Use it well.

A Very Merry Christmas to you.

There was no signature. Harry stared at the note. Ron was admiring the cloak.

"I'd give _anything_ for one of these," he said. " _Anything_. What's the matter?"

"Nothing," Harry lied. He felt very strange. Who had sent the cloak? Had it really once belonged to his father? His father - that was it. All the personal things he had dealt with thus far had been his mother's. This was his father's. His hands had touched it, he had something of his father's.

In the midsts of this realization, the dormitory door was flung open and Fred and George Weasley bounded in. Harry stuffed the cloak quickly out of sight. He didn't feel like sharing it with anyone else just yet.

"Merry Christmas!"

"Hey, look - Harry's got a Weasley sweater, too!"

Fred and George were wearing blue sweaters, one with a large yellow F on it, the other a G.

"Harry's is better than ours, though," said Fred, holding up Harry's sweater. "She obviously makes more of an effort if you're not family."

"Why aren't you wearing yours, Ron?" George demanded. "Come on, get it on, they're lovely and warm."

"I hate maroon," Ron moaned halfheartedly as he pulled it over his head.

"You haven't a letter on yours," George observed. "I suppose she thinks you don't forget your name. But we're not stupid - we know we're Gred and Forge."

"What's all this noise?"

Percy Weasley stuck his head through the door, looking disapproving. He had clearly gotten halfway through unwrapping his presents as he, too, carried a lumpy sweater over his arm, which Fred seized.

"P for prefect! Get it on, Percy, come on, we're all wearing our, even Harry got one."

"I - don't - want -" said Percy thickly, as the twins forced the sweater over his head, knocking his glasses askew.

"And you're not sitting with the prefects today, either," said George. "Christmas is a time for family."

They frog-marched Percy from the room, his arms pinned to his side by his sweater.

Harry had never in all his life had such a Christmas dinner. A hundred fat, roast turkeys; mountains of roast and boiled potatoes; platters of chipolatas; tureens of buttered peas, sliver boats of thick, rich gravy and cranberry sauce - and stacks of wizard crackers every few feet along the table. These fantastic party favors were nothing like the feeble Muggle ones the Dursleys usually bought, with their little plastic toys and their flimsy paper hats inside. Harry pulled a wizard cracker with Fred and it didn't just bang, it went off with a blast like a cannon and engulfed then all in a cloud of blue smoke, while from the inside exploded a rear admiral's hat and several live, white mice. Up at the High Table, Dumbledore had swapped his pointed wizard's hat for a flowered bonnet, and was chuckling merrily at a joke Professor Flitwick had just read.

Flaming Christmas puddings followed the turkey. Percy nearly broken his tooth on a silver sickle embedded in his slice. Harry watched Hagrid getting redder and redder in the face as he called for more wine, finally kissing Professor McGonagall on the cheek, who, to Harry's amazement, giggled and blushed, her top hat lopsided. Snape was his general stoic self and seemed slightly embarrassed for his coworkers. There was certainly something stronger in the drinks at the High Table.

When Harry finally left the table, he was laden down with a stack of things out of the crackers, including a pack of non-explodable, luminous balloons, a Grow-Your-Own-Warts kit, and his own new wizard chess set. The white mice had disappeared and Harry had a nasty feeling they were going to end up as Mrs. Norris's Christmas dinner.

Harry and the Weasleys spent a happy afternoon having a furious snowball fight on the grounds. Then, cold, wet, and gasping for breath, they returned to the fire in the Gryffindor common room, where Harry broke in his new chess set by losing spectacularly to Ron. He suspected he wouldn't have lost so badly if Percy hadn't tried to help him so much.

After a meal of turkey sandwiches crumpets, trifle, and Christmas cake, everyone felt too full and sleepy to much before bed except sit and watch Percy chase Fred and George all over Gryffindor tower because they had stolen his prefect badge.

It had been Harry's best Christmas ever, by a large margin. Yet something had been nagging at the back of his mind all day. Not until he climbed into bed was he free to think about it: the invisibility cloak and whoever had sent it.

Ron, full of turkey and cake and with nothing mysterious to bother him, fell asleep almost as soon as he'd drawn the curtains of his four-poster bed. Harry leaned over the side of his own bed and pulled the cloak out from under it.

His father's … this had been his father's. He let the material flow over his hands, smoother than silk, light as air. _Use it well_ , the note had said.

He had to try it, now. He slipped out of bed and wrapped the cloak around himself. Looking down at his legs, he saw only moonlight and shadows. It was a very funny feeling.

 _Use it well._

Suddenly, Harry felt wide-awake. The whole of Hogwarts was open to him in this cloak. Excitement flooded through him as he stood there in the dark and silence. He could go anywhere in this, anywhere, and Filch would never know.

Ron grunted in his sleep. Should Harry wake himn? Something held him back - his father's cloak - he felt this time - the first time - he wanted to use it alone.

He crept out of the dormitory, down the stairs, across the common room, and climbed through the portrait hole.

"Who's there?" squawked the Fat Lady. Harry said nothing. He walked quickly down the corridor.

Where should I go? He stopped, his heart racing, and thought. And then it came to him. The Restricted Section in the library. He'd be able to read as long as he liked, as long as it took to find out who Flamel was. He set off, drawing the invisibility cloak tight around him as he walked.

The library was pitch-black and very eerie. Harry lit a lamp to see his way along the rows of books. The lamp looked as if it was floating along in midair, and even though Harry could feel his arm supporting it, the sight gave him the creeps.

The Restricted Section was right at the back of the library. Stepping carefully over the rope which separated these books from the rest of the library, he held up his lamp to read the titles.

They didn't tell him much. Their peeling, faded gold letters spelled words in languages Harry couldn't understand, he thought one might have been goblin. Some had no titles at all. One book had a dark stain on it that looked horribly like blood. The hairs on the back of Harry's neck prickled. Maybe he was imagining it, maybe not, but he thought a faint whispering was coming from the books, as though they knew someone was there who shouldn't be.

*There is evil near us,* Sheila hissed.

*Yes, I feel it, too,* Harry agreed.

He looked at the books and decided to try just one. He set the lamp down carefully on the floor, he looked along the bottom shelf for an interesting-looking book. A large black and silver volume caught his eye. He pulled it out with difficulty, because it was very heavy, and, balancing it on his knee, let it fall open.

A piercing, blood curdling shriek split the silence - the book was screaming! Harry snapped it shut, but the shrieking went on - it was an alarm system! It went on and on, one hight, unbroken ear splitting note. He stumbled backward and knocked over his lamp, which went out at once. Panicking, he heard footsteps coming down the corridor outside - stuffing the shrieking book back on the shelf, he ran for it. He passed Filch in the doorway; Filch's pale, wild eyes looked straight through him, and Harry slipped under Filch's outstretched arm and streaked off up the corridor, the book's shrieks still ringing in his ears.

He came to a sudden halt in front of a tall suit of armor. He had been so busy getting away from the library, he hadn't paid attention to where he was going. Perhaps because it was dark, he didn't recognize where he was at all. There was a suit of armor near the kitchens, he knew, but he must be five floors above there.

"You asked me to come directly to you, Professor, if anyone was wandering around at night, and somebody's been in the library - Restricted Section."

Harry felt the blood drain out of his face. Wherever he was, Filch must know a shortcut, because his soft, greasy voice was getting nearer, and to his horror, it was Snape who replied, "The Restricted Section? Well, they can't be far, we'll catch them."

Harry stood rooted to the spot as Filch and Snape came around the corner ahead. They couldn't see him, of course, but it was a narrow corridor and if they came much nearer they'd knock right into him - the cloak didn't stop him from being solid.

He backed away as quietly as he could. A door stood ajar to his left. It was his only hope. He squeezed through it, holding his breath, trying not to move it, and to his relief he managed to get inside the room without their noticing anything. They walked straight past, and Harry leaned against the wall, breathing deeply, listening to their footsteps dying away. That had been close, very close. It was a few seconds before he noticed anything about the room he had hidden in.

It looked like an unused classroom. The dark shapes of desks and chairs were piled against the walls, and there was an upturned wastepaper basket - but propped against the wall facing him was something that didn't look as if it belonged there, something which looked as if someone had just put it there to keep it out of the way.

It was a magnificent mirror, as high as the ceiling, with an ornate gold frame, standing on two clawed feet. There was an inscription carved around the top: _Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi._

His panic fading now that there was no sound of Filch and Snape, Harry moved near to the mirror, wanting to look at himself but see no reflection again. He stepped in front of it.

He had to clap his hands over his mouth to stop himself from screaming. He whirled around. His heart was pounding for more furiously than when the book had screamed - for he had seen not only himself in the mirror, but a whole crowd of people standing right behind him, including Snape!

But the room was empty. Breathing very fast he turned slowly back to the mirror.

There he was, reflected in it, white and scared-looking, and there, reflected behind him were at least a dozen people. Harry looked over his shoulder - but still, no one was there. Or were they all invisible, too? Was he in fact in a room full of invisible people and this mirror's trick was that it reflected them, invisible or not?

He was looked in the mirror again. A woman standing right behind his reflection was smiling at him and waving. He reached out a hand and felt the air behind him. IF she was really there, he'd touch her, their reflections were so close together, but he felt only air- she and the others only existed in the mirror. His mother wasn't actually with him.

She was a very pretty woman. She had dark red hair and her eyes- her eyes are just like mine, Harry thought, edging a little closer to the glass. Bright green - exactly the same shape, but then he noticed she was crying; smiling, but crying at the same time. The tall, thin, black-haired man standing next to her put his arm around her. He wore glasses, and his hair was very untidy. It stuck up at the back, just as Harry's did.

Harry was so close to the mirror now that his nose was nearly touching that of his reflection.

"Mom?" he whispered. "Dad?"

They just looked at him, smiling. And slowly, Harry looked into the faces of the other people in the mirror, and saw other pairs of green eyes like his, other noses like his, even a little old man who looked as though he had Harry's knobbly knees - Harry was looking at his family, for the first time in his life. He saw his grandparents from the Potter portrait and the Muggle photographs. He was bit confused to see Snape and Sintra there are well. They were happy, together, a couple. He had never seen Snape so relaxed and carefree. Was this his past and his future?

The people smiled and waved at Harry and he stared hungrily back at them, his hands pressed flat against the glass as though he was hoping to fall right through it and reach them. He had a powerful kind of ache inside him, half joy, half terrible sadness.

How long he stood there, he didn't know. The reflections did not fade and he looked and looked until a distant noise brought him back to his senses. He couldn't stay here, he had to find his way back to bed. He tore his eyes away from his mother's face, whispered, "I'll come back," and hurried from the room.

"You could have woken me up," said Ron, crossly.

"You can come tonight, I'm going back, I want to show you the mirror."

"I'd like to see your mom and dad," Ron said eagerly.

"And I want to see all your family, all the Weasleys, you'll be able to show me your other brothers and everyone."

"You can see them any old time," said Ron. "Just come around my house this summer. Shame about not finding Flamel, though. Have some bacon or something, why aren't you eating anything?"

Harry couldn't eat. He had seen his parents and would be seeing them again tonight. He had almost forgotten about Flamel. It didn't seem very important anymore. Who cared what the three-headed dog was guarding? What did it matter if someone took it?

"Are you alright?" said Ron. "You look odd?"

Harry looked at him, odd? What if mirror was more than a mirror?

What Harry feared most was he might not be able to find the mirror room again. With Ron covered in the cloak, too, they had to walk much more slowly the next night. They tried retracing Harry's route from the library, wandering around the dark passageway for nearly an hour.

"I'm freezing," said Ron. "Let's forget it and go back."

"No!" Harry snapped. "I know it's here somewhere."

They passed the ghost of a tall witch gliding in the opposite direction, but saw one one else. Just as Ron started moaning that his feet were dead with cold, Harry spotted the suit of armor.

"It's here - just here - yes!"

They pushed the door open. Harry dropped the cloak from around his shoulders and ran to the mirror.

There they were. His mother and father, Snape and Sintra - oh, no- he had forgotten about them! Ron couldn't know about Snape! Ron walked up beside him.

"I can't see anything."

"You can't?" said Harry, shocked and relieved at the same time.

"Let me look in it properly, step over that way a little."

Harry stepped aside, but with Ron in front of the mirror, he couldn't see his family any more, just Ron in his paisley pajamas.

Ron, though, was staring transfixed at his image.

"Look at me!" he said.

"Can you see your family standing around you?"

"No - I'm alone - but I'm different - I look older - and I'm head boy!"

"What!"

"I am - I'm wearing the badge like Bill used to - and I'm holding the house cup and the Quidditch cup - I'm Quidditch captain, too!"

Ron tore his eyes away from this splendid sight to look excitedly at Harry.

"Do you think this mirror shows the future?"

"How can it? All my family are dead - let me have another look -"

"You had it to yourself all last night, give me a bit more time."

"You're only holding the Quidditch cup, what's interesting about that? I want to see my parents."

"Don't push me -"

A sudden noise outside in the corridor put an end to their discussion. They hadn't realized how loudly they had been talking.

"Quick!"

Ron threw the cloak back over them as the luminous eyes of Mrs. Norris came around the door. Ron and Harry stood quite still, both thinking the same things - did the cloak work on cats? After what seemed like ages, she turned and left.

"This isn't safe - she might have gone for Filch, I bet she heard us. Come on."

And Ron pulled Harry out of the room.

The snow still hadn't melted the next morning.

"Want to play chess, Harry?" said Ron.

"No, not really,"Harry said thinking of the mirror.

"Why don't we go down and visit Hagrid?"

"No .. you go … "

"I know what you're thinking about, Harry, that mirror. Don't go back tonight."

"Why not?"

"I dunno, I've just got a bad feeling about it - and anyway, you've had too many close shaves already. Filch, Snape, and Mrs. Norris are wondering around. So what if they can't see you? What if they walk right into you? What if you knock something over?"

"You sound like Hermione."

"I'm serious, Harry, don't go."

But Harry only had one thought in his head, which was to get back in front of the mirror, and Ron wasn't going to stop him.

The third night he found his way more quickly than before. He was walking so fast he knew he was making more noise than was wise, but he didn't meet anyone.

And there was his mother, father, Snape and all the others smiling at him again, and one of his grandfathers was nodding happily. Harry sank down to sit on the floor in front of the mirror. There was nothing to stop him from staying here all night with his family. Nothing at all.

Except -

"So - back again, Harry?"

Harry felt as those his insides had turned to ice. He looked behind him. Sitting on one of the desks by the wall was none other than Albus Dumbledore. Harry must have walked straight past him, so desperate to get to the mirror he hadn't noticed him.

"I - I didn't see you, sir."

"Strange how nearsighted being invisible can make you," said Dumbledore, and Harry was relieved to see he was smiling.

"So," said Dumbledore, slipping off the desk to sit on the floor with Harry, "you, like hundred before you, have discovered the delights of the Mirror of Erised."

"I didn't know it was call that, sir."

"But I expect you've realized by now what it does?"

"It - well - it shows me my family -"

"And it showed your friend Ron himself as head boy."

"How did you know-?"

"I don't need a cloak to become invisible," said Dumbledore gently. "Now, can you think what the Mirror of Erised shows us all?

Harry shook his head, and chided himself. He should have been more careful and used his spidey senses, but he hadn't used them since leaving Privet Drive.

"Let me explain. The happiest man on earth would be able to use the Mirror of Erised like a normal mirror, that, he would look into it and see himself exactly as he is. Does this help?"

Harry thought. Then he said slowly, "It shows us what we want …. Whatever we want …"

"Yes and no," said Dumbledore quietly. "It shows us nothing more or less than the deepest, most desperate desire of our hearts. You, who have never known your family, see them standing around you. Ronald Weasley, who had always been overshadowed by his brothers, see himself standing alone, the best of all of them. However, this mirror will give us neither knowledge nor truth. Men have wasted away before it, entranced by what they have seen, or been driven mad, not knowing if what it shows is real or even possible.

"The Mirror will be moved to a new home tomorrow, Harry, and I ask you not to go looking for it again. If you ever do run across it, you will now be prepared. It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live, remember that. Now, why don't you put that admirable cloak back on and get off to bed?"

Harry stood up.

"Sir - Professor Dumbledore? Can I ask you something?"

"Obviously, you've just done so," Dumbledore smiled. "You may ask me one more thing, however."

"What do you see when you look in the mirror?"

"I? I see myself holding a pair of thick, woolen socks."

Harry stared.

"One can never have enough socks," said Dumbledore. "Another Christmas has come and gone and I didn't get a single pair. People will insist on giving me books."

It was only when he was back in bed that it struck Harry that Dumbledore night not have been quite truthful. But then, he thought, as he shoved Scabbers off his pillow and on to the floor, it had been quite a personal question.

It was a few days later before Franny was sent for him again.

"It seems you have been enjoying your holidays," Snap said sipping his tea.

"The best one ever!" Harry said honestly. "What have you been up to, you haven't been at meals for the last few days. I was starting to get worried."

"Well," said Snape returning his cup. "I've been busy doing night patrols and in my personal lab. It seems someone gave me a book that needed playing with. I haven't slept much to be honest."

Harry was forced to laugh. When he saw Snape's look of disapproval it was worth it.

"You have to learn better control, Potter," Snape teased.

Harry collected himself and asked a serious question.

"I talked to Dumbledore for the first time," Harry told him.

"Really?" Snape seemed genuinely surprised. "What did you talk about?"

"The Mirror of Erised," Harry admitted honestly.

Snape shook his head again.

"How do you find these things out Harry?" Snape asked.

"Well, I was just wondering around the castle and happened upon the room. He told me what it does. But then he said something I can't figure out," Harry paused, this was his real question. "He said 'The Mirror will be moved to a new home tomorrow, Harry, and I ask you not to go looking for it again. If you ever do run across it, you will now be prepared.'"

Harry let that sink in for a moment. "What am I to be prepared for, sir? Does he expect me to do something?"

Snape sat silent and stoic. He was debating inside. He leaned back and sighed deeply.

"Albus Dumbledore is an interesting person. Things he does are often odd, and it always seems he's up to something. He let you find that mirror. He wanted to teach you what it does, because he seems to think you will, or at least may, see it again."

"But - I'm so confused. Can't you tell me more?"

"We are trying to put pressure on Quirrell. Trying to get him to crack, to tell us what he is hiding. He has been much more resilient than we thought. As of now, we have nothing to take to the authorities. If we scare him away entirely, we lose any information he may have. See the delima?"

"What makes you so certain he knows something?"

"What he did to you at the Start-of-Term feast," Snape said honestly. "That has Voldemort's hand written all over it."

"Oh, was he really trying to kill me with the broom jinx?" Harry swallowed.

"Yes," Snape said angrily. "We are taking certain precautions to make sure that will not happen again, too."

"Good," Harry said swallowing.

They were quite for a few minutes and Harry spoke again.

"Am I in danger?"

"Yes," Snape said a minute later. "But this would be true no matter where you were. Here there are very powerful people trying their best to protect you."

"But I take classes from someone trying to kill me," Harry pointed out.

"Welcome to the wizarding world, Harry," Snape said sarcastically. "Keep your friends close and your enemies closer," he snarled.

"Ummm…" Harry said curling up in his chair.


	16. Chapter 16 Nicolas Flamel

Chapter 16

Nicolas Flamel

Dumbledore had convinced Harry not to go looking for the Mirror of Erised again, and for the rest of the Christmas holidays the invisibility cloak stayed folded and put away in the closet in him trunk. Harry wished he could forget what he'd seen in the mirror as easily, but he couldn't. He'd started having nightmares. Over and over again he dreamed about his parents disappearing in a flash of green light, while a high voice cackled with laughter. He did his mental homework every morning and night, and the bad magic somehow always found a way out after a nightmare.

The day before the rest students were set to arrive back Harry found Hedwig sitting on the window sill outside of the Gryffindor common room. He went to the window and opened it to see her with a letter and a small package. He quickly took them, hiding them in his robes, and petted Hedwig without Ron noticing the letter and package. Later, once Ron was asleep and he was in his trunk, he opened the letter.

 _$January 3, 1992$_

 _$Great friend Lord Harry Potter,$_

 _$I, Griphook, am pleased to know you are learning and studying well at Hogwarts. I am curious to know which books you are reading regarding goblin-forged artifacts from the Hogwarts library and what other book may be available to you there? I may then be able to point you the right direction as to the best source of information.$_

 _$As to your own artifact, we believe it to be the work of Ugrod with the assistance of Farrod. If you are able to find information on either of these two in your library I would be curious as to what is said about them. They are so ancient that their work, skills, and abilities are more myth and legend than known fact. The markings on your artifact I can only discuss with you in person for safety reasons.$_

 _$As for the break in on your birthday, I am sorry, but for security reasons, I can say nothing about it.$_

 _$I have delayed returning your letter for so long because of your last question. I have answered it with a gift. In the accompanying package is a portrait of my Great Uncle Fradknus. He was a stubborn old goblin who, finally, agreed to the task. He sits in my office, my home, and now with you as well. He refused to learn the language of wizards, so you may only speak with him in our tongue.$_

 _$I am pleased to hear you are doing well at school and as seeker for your house team. Goblins do not play Quidditch, but we make a nice profit from those who wish to do something so foolish as to gamble on it. It seems you have a talent for the game, be safe.$_

 _$May fortune find you in the new year as well.$_

 _$Best Regards,$_

 _$Griphook$_

 _$Family Vaults Account Manager$_

Harry knew the Flamel question was a long shot, but it was worth asking. It took him the better part of an hour to translate the letter, but he had done it. He smiled when he realized Griphook was answering his letter in a way he could see his language mistakes. He had so much to learn, and it was getting hard to figure out. He would need help. He reached for the package with the picture and held it still wrapped.

Harry had learned there were two kinds of wizarding picture. The first were photographs and inexpensive paintings. In these, the people would wave and move, but really couldn't carry on a conversation with you. Then, there were the painted portraits. Many of these were found in the halls of Hogwarts. These contained what almost seemed like living beings. They talked, could move to other painting, they had personalities, and they could carry on a conversation. Harry knew this, Great Uncle Fradknus, would be this type. It appeared he was not very interested in this job, which had Harry worried. It was late, he was tired. He placed the gift in his drawer for another night. He needed to figure out what to say to him first.

"You see, Dumbledore was right, that mirror could drive you mad," said Ron, when Harry told him about these dreams.

Hermione, who came back the day before term started, tool a different view of things. She was torn between horror at the idea of Harry being out of bed, roaming the school three nights in a row ("If Filch had caught you!"), and disappointment that he hadn't at least found out who Nicolas Flamel was. She also brought Harry her French books so that could try and use them to figure out the goblin language format. Harry was trying to draft another letter to Griphook and it was looking much better than the last one. Plus, he still had to figure out what to do with his still unopened gift. He wanted Hermione to be there.

They has almost given up hope of ever finding flamel in a library book, even though Harry was still sure he'd read the name somewhere. Once term had started, they were back to skimming through books for ten minutes during breaks. Harry had even less time than the others, because Quidditch practice had started again.

Wood was working the team harder than ever. Even the endless rain which had replaced the snow couldn't dampen his spirits. The Weasleys complained Wood was becoming a fanatic, but Harry was on Wood's side. If they won their next match, against Hufflepuff, they would overtake Slytherin in the house championship for the first time in seven years. Quite apart from wanting to win, Harry found that he had fewer nightmares when he was exhausted from training.

Then, during one particularly wet and muddy practice session, Wood gave them a bit of bad news. He'd just gotten very angry with the Weasleys, who kept dive-bombing each other and pretending to fall off their brooms

"Will you stop messing around!" he yelled. "That's exactly the sort of thing that'll lose us the match! Snape's refereeing this time, and he'll be looking for any excuse to knock points off Gryffindor!"

George Weasley really did fall off his broom at these words.

" _Snape's_ refereeing?" he spluttered through a mouthful of mud. "When's he ever refereed a Quidditch match? He's not going to be fair if we might overtake Slytherin."

The rest of the ream landed next to George to complain, too.

"It's not _my_ fault," said Wood. "We've just got to make sure we play a clean game, so Snape hasn't got an excuse to pick on us.

Which was all very well, thought Harry, but he had another thought. Snape would have to play against them, against him. Just like he did in class if he were to stay true to character. This was going to be interesting. It had to be what Snape had mentioned the other night. Harry was sure he would be safe in one sense, but also sure Snape was NOT going to be helping Gryffindor in any way.

The rest of the team hung back to talk to one another as usual at the end of practice, but Harry headed straight back to the Gryffindor common room, where he found Ron and Hermione where playing chess. Chess was the only thing Hermione ever lost at, something the boys though was very good for her.

"Don't talk to me for a moment," said Ron when Harry sat down next to him, "I need to concen -" He caught sight of Harry's face. "What's the matter with you? You look terrible."

Speaking quietly so that no one else could hear, Harry told the other two about Snape's sudden, odd desire to be a Quidditch referee.

"Don't play," was Hermione's instant advice.

"Say you are ill," Ron offered.

"Pretend to break your leg," Hermione suggested.

" _Really_ break your leg," Ron agreed.

"I can't," said Harry. "There isn't a reserve Seeker. If I back out, Gryffindor can't play at all."

At that moment Neville toppled into the common room. How he had managed to climb through the portrait hole was anyone's guess, because his legs had been stuck together with what they recognized at once as the Leg-Locker Curse. He must have had to bunny hop all the way up to Gryffindor tower.

Everyone fell over laughing except Hermione, who leapt up and performed the countercurse. Neville's legs sprang apart, and he got to his feet trembling.

"What happened?" Hermione asked him, leading him over to sit with Harry and Ron.

"Malfoy," said Neville shakily. "I met him outside the library. He said he had been looking for someone to practice that on."

"Go to Professor McGonagall!" Hermione urged Neville. "Report him!"

Neville shook his head.

"I don't want more trouble," he mumbled.

"You've got to stand up to him, Neville!" said Ron. "He's used to walking all over people, but we have to stand up to him We have to show him he can't keep doing things like this."

"There's no need to tell me I'm not brave enough to be in Gryffindor, Malfoy's already done that," Neville choked out.

"I didn't say that Neville!" Ron said, "he's mean to all of us!"

Harry felt in the pocket of his robes and pulled out a Chocolate Frog, the very last one from the box Hermione had given him for Christmas. He gave it to Neville, who looked as though he might cry.

"You're worth twelve of Malfoy," Harry said. "The Sorting Hat chose you for Gryffindor, didn't it? And where's Malfoy? In stinking Slytherin."

Neville's lips twitched in a weak smile as he unwrapped the frog.

"Thanks, Harry … I think I'll go to bed… D'you want the card, you collect then, don't you?"

As Neville walked away, Harry looked at the Famous Wizard card.

"Dumbledore again," he said, "He was the first one I ever -"

"He gasped. He stared at the back of the card. Then he looked up at Ron and Hermione.

" _I found him!_ " he whispered. "I've found Flamel! I told you I'd read the name somewhere before, I read it on the train coming here - listen to this: 'Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood, _and his work on alchemy with is partner, Nicholas Flamel'!"_

Hermione jumped to her feet, She hadn't looked so excited since they'd gotten back marks for their very first piece of homework.

"Stay here!" she said, and she sprinted up the stairs to the girls' dormitories. Harry and Ron barely had time to exchange mystified looks before she was dashing back, an enormous old book in her arms.

"I never thought to look in here!" she whispered excitedly. "I got this out of the library weeks ago for a bit of light reading."

" _Light_?" said Ron, but Hermione told he to be quiet until she'd looked something up, and started flicking frantically through the pages, muttering to herself.

At last she found what she was looking for.

"I knew it! I _knew_ it!"

"Are we allowed to speak yet?" said Ron grumpily. Hermione ignored him.

"Nicolas Flamel," she whispered dramatically, "is the _only known maker of the Sorcerer's Stone_!"

This didn't have quite the effect she'd expected.

"The what?" said Harry and Ron. Neville just shrugged when they looked at him.

"Oh, _honestly_ , don't you guys read? Look - read that, there."

She pushed the book toward them, and Harry, Ron, and Neville read:

 _The ancient study of alchemy is concerned with making the Sorcerer's Stone, a legendary substance with astonishing powers. The stone will transform any metal into pure gold. It also produces the Elixir of Life, which will make the drinker immortal._

 _There have been many reports of the Sorcerer's Stone over the centuries, but the only Stone currently in existence belongs to Mr. Nicolas Flamel, the noted alchemist and opera lover. Mr. Flamel, who celebrated his six hundred and sixty-fifth birthday last year, enjoys a quiet life in Devon with his wife, Perenelle (six hundred and fifty-eight)._

"See?" said Hermione, when Harry, Ron, and Neville had finished. "The dog must guarding Flamel's Sorcerer's Stone! I bet he asked Dumbledore to keep it safe for him, because they're friends and he knew someone was after it, that's why he wanted the Stone moved out of Gringotts!"

"A stone that makes gold and stops you from ever dying!" said Harry, "No wonder someone is after it! Anyone would want it…" Harry's voice became a near silent whisper… "Voldemort would want it."

"And no wonder we couldn't find it Flamel in that _Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry_ ," said Ron. "He's not exactly recent if he's six hundred and sixty-five, is he?"

That night, for the first time, Harry called Franny and asked to see if Snape could see him. She was gone for just a minute and then returned and took him to Snape's rooms. He was in his regular chair, but there was no sign of Snape. Harry sat pondering and collecting his thoughts. This knew development was bothering him greatly and he needed to talk to someone who understood more than he did. He waited about five minutes before Snape came in. He sat down in his chair and Franny brought him his regular evening tea.

"So what brings you here tonight?" Snape asked after taking a sip and settling in.

"A certain Sorcerer's Stone," Harry said honestly.

"Took you guys long enough to figure that last part out," Snape teased in his way.

"Voldemort is trying to get it, isn't he? He wants it for the Elixir of Life, he wants to come back and kill me properly this time." Harry asked quickly before he could talk himself out of asking.

Snape looked at him and chose his next words carefully.

"Harry, that's jumping conclusions. What we _know_ for sure is Quirrell, either by choice or force, is trying to get to the Stone. We are fairly certain it was, again Quirrell, who trigger your 'prickly magic' to escape, and it was he who tried to jinx your broom."

"Why doesn't Dumbledore just go to Quirrell and demand he come clean!" Harry pleaded. "That Stone is nothing more than bait and this is a _school_! With _kids_! Remember the troll that almost _killed_ Hermione!"

"Yes, Potter," Snape answered and just by the tone of his voice Harry knew he was annoyed. He wondered if it was at him or Dumbledore. "You're grasp of the obvious is notable. However, there are things I can do and things I cannot do."

Harry just looked at him as if to say 'such as?'

"I can do my best to pressure Quirrell into letting me 'help' him get the stone. By so doing I hope to discover if it is indeed Voldemort he is trying to help. If it is, then we may be able to find him and destroy him before he is able to regain any strength. That is the most optimistic objective we have. I can also do my best to make sure he stays as far away from you as possible. Which is why I am refereeing the game. I regret it will likely mean you will lose, but it is unavoidable."

Harry looked at him, "we'll see."

He got a Snape sneer smile as he sipped his tea.

"I still think that is most backward way of going about things, arrest the guy! Can they do that in the wizarding world?" Harry asked not sure.

"Yes," Snape said, "but we do not have enough hard proof. We also don't want to scare him way. Voldemort has stayed hidden since that Halloween night. Many have been searching for him for over a decade. This is the first reliable lead we have found. We don't want it to disappear and all of this work be for naught."

"Who is we?" Harry asked.

Snape looked at Harry, "a group of trusted witches and wizards who fight for the light. We are headed by Dumbledore and worked for Voldemort's destruction. We disbanded after his disappearance, but we have not given up looking for him and keeping a watchful eye on things. We have always worried he was not fully dead."

Harry thought for a few minutes.

"Were my parents part of this group?"

"Yes," Snape said honestly.

"And Neville's?"

"Yes."

"How do you know he's not 'fully dead?'"

Snape was silent for a few minutes and he tried to organize his thoughts and the best way to explain things.

"As a spy, I was privy to some of the things Voldemort was doing. My biggest talent to the Dark Lord was my potions ability. I was asked to make some potions that were….interesting to say the least. My talents behind the scenes saved me have having to participate in the more … violent parts of his plans … most of the time. However, I was often left having to clean up the injuries and deal with his displeasure when things didn't go as he had hoped. Toward the end, he was obsessed with ensuring immortality for himself. You stood in his way then, therefore you were to be destroyed. That has not changed. Therefore, if he is still alive, you are at risk. If he were truly dead, then some of the dark magic he did, would...end, dissolve, die with him. It has not, and all of his closet followers know this. Therefore, we wait for his return, hoping to head it off before it can get going."

Harry thought for a few minutes, trying to remember everything from the previous conversations and piece it all together correctly.

"So, you have a mark, that would be gone if Voldemort was completely dead, but it's not?"

"Correct," Snape sneered, hating the fact.

Harry was silent for a few more minutes. Dare he ask what he wanted to? But how?

"Your theory is that I have some magic from Voldemort, correct?"

Snape nodded.

"Would me having his magic prevent this mark from going away?"

Snape cocked his head and though for a few minutes, then shook it no.

"You have your mother's magic, and she is gone. A person's magic can be separated from their being, it's not easy, but it can be done. What we are dealing with here is more like a piece of…"

Snape leaped to his feet.

"Franny," Snape called grabbing some floo powder. She popped in, "I need you to take Harry back to his rooms. Harry, we will talk again soon. I need to find something out."

He threw the powder into the fire and stepped in. As Franny took his hand he heard Snape say Albus' office before he popped away.

Harry laid in his head for some while trying to figure out what he had said. What did Snape know that he didn't. What had he said that triggered such a strong reaction?

Harry was somber the next day in classes, and in DADA he tried not to look at Professor Quirrell. It wasn't hard, they were told to copy down different ways of treating werewolf bites. Ron and Neville, who had been brought up to speed on the discovery, were talking about what they'd do with a Sorcerer's Stone if they had one. It wasn't until Ron said he'd buy his own Quidditch team that Harry remembered about Snape and the coming match.

"I'm going to play," he told Ron and Hermione. "If I don't, all the Slytherins will think I'm just too scared to face Snape. I'll show them… it'll really wipe the smiles off their faces if we win."

"Just as long as we're not wiping you off the field," said Hermione, Neville laughed nervously.

As the match drew nearer, however, Harry became more and more nervous, whatever he told the other three. The rest of the team wasn't too calm, either. The idea of overtaking Slytherin in the house championship was wonderful, no one had done if for seven years, but would they be allowed to, with such a biased referee?

Harry didn't know whether he was imagining it or not, but he seemed to keep running into Snape wherever he went. At times, he even wondered whether Snape was following him, trying to see where he went and what he did. Potions lessons were turning into a sort of weekly torture, and this week Ron had earned detention with him. So they _did_ end up scrubbing cauldron by hand and Harry missed a chance to talk with Snape. What has Snape found out from his conversation with Dumbledore? Obviously it was drastic enough he was following Harry around. He seemed to know where he was and what he was doing. He was starting to wonder if Snape could read minds.

Harry knew, when they wished him good luck outside the locker rooms the next afternoon, that Ron, Neville and Hermione were wondering whether they'd see him alive again. This wasn't what you'd call comforting. Harry hardly hear a word of Wood's pep talk as he pulled on his Quidditch robes and pick up his Nimbus Two Thousand.

Ron, Neville, and Hermione found a place in the stands. They had all brought their wands to the stand and had learned the Leg-Locker Curse Malfoy had used on Neville. They were going to use it on Snape if showed any sign of wanting to hurt Harry.

"Now, don't forget, it's _Locomotor Mortis_ ," Hermione muttered, and they all slipped their wands up their sleeves.

"I _know_ ," Ron snapped. "Don't nag."

Back in the locker room, Wood had taken Harry aside.

"Don't want to pressure you, Potter, but if we ever needed an early capture of the Snitch it's now. Finish the game before Snape can favor Hufflepuff too much."

"The whole school is out there!" said Fred Weasley, peering out of the door. "Even -blimey - Dumbledore's come to watch!"

Harry's heart did a somersault.

" _Dumbledore?_ " he said, dashing to the door to make sure.

Fred was right. There was no mistaking that silver beard. There would be no bucking brooms this time, he was sure of it. He could have laughed out loud with relief. With Snape in the air, though not favoring them, and Dumbledore in the stand, no one would try anything.

The teams made their way out onto the field.

"I've never seen him look so mean," Ron said to Hermione when they saw Snape. "Look - they're off. Ouch!"

Someone had poked Ron in the back of the head. It was Malfoy.

"Oh, sorry, Weasley, didn't see you there."

Malfoy grinned broadly at Crabbe and Goyle.

"Wonder how long Potter's going to stay on his broom this time? Anyone want to bet? What about you, Weasley?"

Ron didn't answer; Snape had just awarded Hufflepuff a penalty because George Weasley had hit a Bludger at him. Hermione, who had all her fingers crossed in her lap, was quinting fixedly at Harry, who was circling the game like a hawk, looking for the Snitch.

"You know how I think they choose people for the Gryffindor team?" said Malfoy loudly a few minutes later, as Snape awarded Hufflepuff another penalty for no reason at all. "It's people they feel sorry for. See, there's Potter, who's got no parents, then there's the Weasleys, who've got no money - you should be on the team, Longbottom, you've got no brains."

Neville went bright red but turned in his seat to face Malfoy.

"I'm worth twelve of you, Malfoy," he said more bravely than he felt.

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle howled with laughter, but Ron, still not daring to take his eyes from the game back him up by saying, "You tell him, Neville."

"Longbottom, if brains were gold you'd be poorer than Weasley, and that's saying something."

Ron's nerves were already stretched to the breaking point with anxiety about Harry.

"I'm warning you, Malfoy - one more word -"

"Ron!" said Hermione suddenly, "Harry -!"

"What? Where?"

Harry had suddenly gone into a spectacular dive, which drew gasps and cheers from the crowd. Hermione stood up, her crossed fingers in her mouth, as Harry streaked toward the ground like a bullet.

"You're in luck, Weasley, Potter's obviously spotted some money on the ground!" said Malfoy.

Ron snapped. Before Malfoy knew what was happening, Ron was on top of him, wrestling him to the ground. Neville hesitated, then clambered over the back of the seat to help.

"Come on, Harry!" Hermione screamed, leaping onto her seat to watch as Harry sped straight at Snape - she didn't even notice Malfoy and Ron rolling around under her seat, or the scuffles and yelps coming from the whirl of fists that was Neville, Crabbe and Goyle.

Up in the air, Snape turned on his broomstick just in time to see something scarlet shoot past him, missing him by inches - the next second, Harry had pulled out of the dive, his arm raised in triumph, the Snitch clasped in his hand.

The stands erupted; it had to be record, no one could ever remember the Snitch being caught do quickly.

"Ron! Ron! Where are you? The games over! Harry's won! We've won! Gryffindor is in the lead!" shrieked Hermione, dancing up and down on her seat and hugging Parvati Patil in the row in front of her.

Harry jumped off his broom, a foot from the ground, He couldn't believe it. He'd done it - the game was over; it had barely lasted five minutes. As Gryffindors came spilling onto the field, he saw Snape land nearby, white-faced and tight-lipped - then Harry felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up into Dumbledore's smiling face.

"Well done," said Dumbledore quietly, so only Harry could hear. "Nice to see you haven't been brooding about that mirror … it seems you've been busy elsewhere… excellent. I think Professor Snape will talk with you soon, but maybe not tonight."

Snape spat bitterly on the ground and Harry couldn't help but smile.

Harry left the locker room alone some time later, to take his Nimbus Two Thousand back to its' home in the broomshed. He couldn't have imagined feeling any better than he did now. He'd really done something to be proud of now - no one could saw he was just a famous name anymore. The evening air had never smelled so sweet. He walked over the damp grass, reliving the last hour in his head, which was a happy blur: Gryffindors running to lift him up onto their shoulders; Ron, Neville, and Hermione in the distance, jumping up and down. Ron cheering through a heavy nosebleed and Neville with a swollen eye? He'd have to ask about those later.

Harry reached the shed. He leaned against the wooden door and looked up at Hogwarts, with its windows glowing red in the setting sun. Gryffindor in the lead. He'd done it, he was even able to beat Snape to the bunch…

And speaking of Snape…

A hooded figure came swiftly down the front steps of the castle. Clearly not wanting to be seen, it walked as fast as possible toward the forbidden forest. Harry's victory faded from his mind as he watched. He recognized the figure's prowling walk. Snape, sneaking into the forest while everyone else was at dinner - what was going on?

Harry jump back on his broom and took off. Gliding silently over the castle he saw Snape enter the forest at a run. He followed.

The trees were so thick he couldn't see where Snape had gone. He flew in circles, lower and lower, brushing the top branches of tree until he heard voices. He glided toward them and landed noiselessly in a towering beech tree.

He climbed carefully along one of the branches, holding tight to his broomstick, trying to see through the leaves.

Below, in a shadowy clearing, stood Snape, but he wasn't alone. Quirrell was there, too. Harry couldn't make out the look on his face, but he was stuttering worse than ever. Harry strained to catch what they were saying.

"...d-don't know why you wanted t-t-to meet here of all p-places, Severus…"

"Oh, I thought we'd keep this private," said Snape, his voice icy. "Students aren't supposed to know about the Sorcerer's Stone, after all."

Harry leaned forward. Quirrell was mumbling something , Snape interrupted him.

"Have you found out how to get past that beast of Hagrid's yet?"

"B-b-but Severus, I-"

"You don't want me as your enemy, Quirrell," said Snape, taking a step toward him.

"I-I don't know what you -"

"You know perfectly well what I mean."

An owl hooted loudly, and Harry nearly fell out of the tree. He steadied himself in time to hear Snape say, "- your little bit of hocus-pocus. I'm waiting."

"B-but I d-d-don't -"

"Very well," Snape cut in. "We'll have another little chat soon, when you've had time to think things over and decided where your loyalties lie."

He threw his cloak over his head and strode out of the clearing. It was almost dark now, but Harry could see Quirrell, standing quite still as though he was petrified. Harry slowly and silently started to make his way back up to leave when Quirrell seemed to snap out of it.

"That idiot," he hissed. "Why is he making it harder for me! I know exactly where my loyalties lie ... with you master."

Harry turned his head and looked at Quirrell half on his broom. The man he saw now, was one of confidence and strength.

"Patience, patience, I have waited too long to lose this chance to get both the stone and the boy. Severus is only trying to help in his own misguided way."

Harry heard the voice, but saw no one. It seemed to be coming from close to Quirrell, but there was no one there he could see.

"Yes, master," Quirrell said as he walked back into the cover of the trees.

Harry bolted for the castle..

"Harry, where have you been?" Hermione squeaked.

"We won! You won! We won!" shouted Ron, thumping Harry on the back. "And I gave Malfoy a black eye, and Neville tried to take on Crabbe and Goyle single-handed! His eye is swollen shut, but Madam Pomfrey says he'll be alright - talk about showing Slytherin! Everyone's waiting for you in the common room, we're having a party, Fred and George stole some cakes and stuff from the kitchens."

"Never mind that now," said Harry breathlessly. "Let's find an empty room, you wait 'til you hear this…."

He made sure Peeves wasn't inside before shutting the door behind them and then told them what he had seen. It took some talking and Hermione backing him up for Harry to convince Ron that Snape was on their side.

"So we were right, it is the Sorcerer's Stone, and Snapes' trying to force Quirrell to try and get it. He's trying to see if he knows how to get past Fluffy. As long as he doesn't know how to do that, the Stone is safe. Not sure what the 'hocus-pocus' was about - I think there are probably other things guarding the stone apart from Fluffy, loads of enchantments, probably. But that part at the end, that's what scares me," Harry said.

The look on his friends faces confirmed that they thought the same thing.

"He's acting," Hermione said. "It's all a ruse, but why? And who was he talking to?"

Ron swallowed, he didn't want to say what they were all thinking.

They were not in the partying mood when they did make it back to the tower. As soon as Neville made it back from the hospital wing they followed him up to bed waving good night to Hermione. Once up stairs, they told Neville what had happened.

"How are we supposed to go back to class after this?" asked Neville.

They all shrugged as they went back to bed. It was a long time before the other two fell asleep. Finally, Harry called for Franny.

"Franny, I have to speak to Snape, it's an emergency," he whispered.

"He's not home, he's not available," she said dancing in her spot.

"Is he with the headmaster?" Harry asked, the elf nodded biting her lip.

"Go, and ask if I can talk with them both, this is really important!" he stressed.

It was a few anxious minutes later when Franny returned and held out her hand. Harry stood on his bed, not sure where they would end up, and took Franny's hand. They appeared in a office. It was full of little oddities and three people.

"Potter!" cried McGonagall. "That was the student!"

Harry was shocked and in his pajamas.

"Sorry professor," Harry said as he turned his attention to Snape.

"I'm going to start with, I'm sorry, but I was worried about you," he said looking at Snape who raised his eyebrow. "I was putting my broom away when you headed out to the forest," Snape's expression turned angry. "You're going to want to know what happened after you left," he hurried before Snape could say anything.

"I swear I am going to tie you to Longbottom!" Snape said between clenched teeth. "Continue!"

He rambled out what he had heard as quickly as he could. When he was done he looked at the the three silence adults.

"We have to do something," he said to them.

Dumbledore straightened and looked at Harry, speaking slowly and clearly.

"Harry, that is exactly what we are trying to do, but we want the voice, not Quirrell."

"It's in his turban, it has to be," Harry told them.

"We don't know that for sure, Potter," Snape snapped. "And that's the problem."

"That man is trying to kill me, and you expect me to go to class tomorrow like nothing happened!" Harry said in disbelief, just sitting on the floor because there was not a chair.

"Where are my manners," Dumbledore said conjuring a chair beneath Harry and raising him up already sitting in it. "Harry, I understand this is all very difficult to understand. Please, hear me out."

Harry listened as Dumbledore started talking about how they had searched for Voldemort all over the world for the last decade to no avail.

"I believe only one thing brought him out of hiding Harry," Dumbledore said.

"What, me?" Harry said sarcastically, oddly similar to Snape.

"Precisely that," Dumbledore said looking over his glasses. "He is willing to come out of hiding to try and find out about you. To try and see and understand this infant that was able to defeat him. He does not know why you lived and he didn't. It's that 'why' he is trying to figure out. That is why I moved the Stone this year, because you were coming back and it was his best method of rebirth. If both you and the Stone were here, he would have to come here."

Harry jaw dropped, "I'm bait!"

"Potter," Professor McGonagall reprimanded.

"He's right Minerva," Snape chided. "It's a valid perspective, if short sighted."

Harry turned on Snape.

"You are okay with this," he said the pain in his voice impossible to hide.

"No," Snape said. "I am not, as I have said to you many times, I have continually tried to persuade Dumbledore from doing this."

Harry turned to look at Dumbledore, searching for some reason to make all of this seem like a reasonable situation.

"Harry," Dumbledore started, "the truth is a beautiful and terrible thing, and should be therefore be treated with great caution. You are yet young, and there are some things that are better shared with you when you are older and wiser. I will, sometime in the future, share with you all I know of Voldemort. For now, I beg of you to, please, trust in my … more experienced perspective. I believe Voldemort to be very weak at the moment, or I would never dream of allowing him anywhere near children. I believe that Quirrell is in his control, and am trying to use Quirrell, not you, to get to Voldemort. Do you understand?"

"I think so, but I still don't like it," Harry huffed crossing his arms over his chest.

"I believe that is understandable," Dumbledore agreed. "I don't like it myself, but I must say I am amazed at the ability of you and your friends to piece together everything you have." He paused and looked at Harry, "and I am afraid I must ask you something very difficult."

"What?"

"You must act like you know none of this, and you must stop trying to interfere."

Dumbledore looked over his glasses intently at Harry.

"I cannot protect you if you keep placing yourself in harms way," he said sternly. "What you did tonight is a perfect example."

"But," Harry started.

"No buts Harry," Dumbledore said kindly, but sternly. "Severus can take care of himself, and you are to act as an eleven year old first year who knows nothing about any of this. Do I make myself clear?"

Harry looked at his bear feet, "yes sir," he mumbled.


	17. Chapter 17 Norbert - Norwegian Ridgeback

Chapter 17

Norbert the Norwegian Ridgeback

Harry was able to convince his friends of what Dumbledore had told him. None of them liked it, but none of them could find fault with his argument. So they kept quite in DADA and did their work.

Harry turned his attention to the still unopened package in his trunk's library drawer. One night he asked Hermione to help in the library while Neville and Ron were busy with wizards chess. He brought her up to speed on the letter and they looked at the unopened package. They had prepared a simple message and a plan. Hermione was going to stay behind the picture and write out phonetically the sounds and words she was certain off while Harry tried to get him to say the words they had outlines in his plan. Ready, they put their plan into motion.

Harry took off the paper and set the frame on his desk. The goblin looked Harry over, as Harry bowed.

$I, Harry Potter, am honored to meet you.$ he tried to say.

The goblin looked at Harry and shook his head.

$I, Fradknus, am honored to meet you.$

He made a motion as if he wanted Harry to repeat what he had said. Five tries latter, he was satisfied with Harry's introduction. It was a long grueling hour for all involved as Harry discovered Fradknus was an exacting teacher. By the end though, he could count correctly and had the alphabet corrected from what they had pieced together. It took a few tries before Fradknus was satisfied with his goodbye as well. When he disappeared from the frame, Harry gladly put it away in his drawer.

"I think I hate him," Harry said with his head on the desk.

Hermione who had been sitting in the corner scribbling on parchment the whole time looked up.

"He was great," she declared looking up from her notes. "Look at all the information I got!"

Harry lifted his head and looked at the rolls of parchment littered around her, and he let his head fall back down. He knew those two would get along well when they meet.

In the weeks that followed Quirrell seemed to be getting paler and thinner, Snape must have really been putting on the pressure. Harry was smart enough not to ask questions when Franny would fetch him, and Snape did not offer information.

Everytime they passed the third-floor corridor they would press their ears to the door to check that Fluffy was still growling inside. Snape was sweeping about in his usual bad temper, which surely meant that the Stone was safe. Whenever Harry passed Quirrell these days he gave him a wide berth.

Hermione, however, had more on her mind than the Sorcerer's Stone. They were on their third letter to Griphook and each letter was longer and better. It was talking them time to translate, as best they could, the letters he was sending back. They were slowly, but surely filling in the gaps on Hermione's charts and tables. Fradkhus had been invaluable and was increasing their ability to learn the language by leaps and bounds. Harry had been correct in his guess, and it appeared to Harry that he enjoyed conversing with Hermione more than Harry. It was as if Fradknus believe her to be a more worthy student. Harry had to agree she was picking it up quickly and helping Harry to as well. She was now drawing up study schedules and color coding all her notes for their regular classes as well. Harry, Ron and Neville wouldn't have minded, but she kept nagging them to do the same.

"Hermione, the exams are ages away."

"Ten weeks," Hermione snapped. "That's not ages, that's like a second to Nicolas Flamel."

"But we're not six hundred years old," Ron reminded her. "Anyway, what are you studying for, you already know it all."

"What am I studying for? Are you crazy? You realize we need to pass these exams to get into second year? They're very important, I should have started studying a month ago, I don't know what's gotten into me…"

Unfortunately, the teachers seemed to be thinking along the same line as Hermione. They piled on so much homework on them that the Easter holidays weren't as much fun as the Christmas ones. The fifth and seventh years were a nightmare and would yell at you to get off their table, they had tests! It was hard to relax with Hermione next to reciting the twelve uses of dragon's blood or practicing wand movements, moaning and yawning, the three of them spent most of their time in the clubhouse or the library trying to get through all of their extra work.

"I'll never remember this," Ron burst out one afternoon, throwing down his quill and looking longingly out of the library window. It was the first really fine day they'd had in months. The sky was a clear, forget-me-not blue, and there was a feeling in the air of summer coming.

Harry, who was looking up "Dittany" in _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_ , didn't look up until he heard Ron say, "Hagrid! What are you doing in the library?"

Hagrid shuffled into view, hiding something behind his back. He looked very out of place in his moleskin overcoat.

"Jus' lookin'," he said, in a shifty voice which got their interest at once. "An' what're you lot up ter?" He looked suddenly suspicious. "Yer not still lookin' few Nicolas Flamel, are yeh?"

"Oh, er found out who he was ages ago," said Ron impressively. "And we know what that dog's guarding, it's a Sorcerer's St-"

" _Shhhh_!" Hagrid looked around quickly to see if anyone was listening. "Don' go shoutin' about it, what's the matter with yeh?"

"There are a few things we wanted to ask you, as a matter of fact," said Harry, "about what's guarding the stone apart from Fluffy -"

"SHHHH!" said Hagrid again. "Listen - come an' see me later, I'm not promisin' I'll tell yeh anythin', mind, but don't go rabbitin' about it in here, students aren' s'pposed ter know. They'll think I've told yeh -"

"See you later, then," said Harry.

Hagrid shuffled off.

"What was he hiding behind his back?" Neville said thoughtfully.

"Do you think it had anything to do with the Stone?" Harry wondered.

"I'm going to see what section he was in," said Ron, who'd had enough of working. He came back a minute late with a pile of books in his arms and slammed them down on the table.

" _Dragons_!" he whispered. "Hagrid was looking up stuff about dragons! Look at these: _Dragon Species of Great Britain and Ireland; From Egg to Inferno, A Dragon Keeper's Guide._ "

"Hagrid's always wanted a dragon, he told us so the first time we went to his hut," said Harry.

"But it is against our laws," said Ron. "Dragon breeding was outlawed by the Warlock's Convention of 1709, everyone knows that. It's hard to stop Muggles from noticing us if we're keeping dragons in the back garden - anyway, you can't tame dragons, it's dangerous. You should see the burns Charlie's got off wild ones in Romania."

"But there aren't wild dragons in _Britain_?" said Harry.

"Of course there are," said Ron. "Common Welsh Green and Hebridean Blacks. The Ministry of Magic has a job hushing them up, I can tell you. Our kind have to keep putting spells on Muggles who've seen them, to make them forget."

"So what on earth's Hagrid up to?" said Hermione.

"Let's go ask?" offered Neville.

When they knock on the door of the gamekeeper's hut an hour later, they were surprised to see all of the curtains were closed. Hagrid called "Who is it?" before he let them in, and then shut the door quickly behind them.

It was stifling hot inside. Even though it was such a warm day, there was a blazing fire in the grate. Hagrid made them tea and offered then stoat sandwiches, which they refused.

"So - yeh wanted to ask me somethin'?"

"Yes," said Harry. There was no point beating around the bush. "We were wondering if you could tell us what's guarding the Sorcerer's Stone apart from Fluffy."

Hagrid frowned at him.

"O' course I can't," he said. "Number one, I don't know meself. Number two, yeh know too much already, so I wouldn' tell yeh if I could. That stone's here fer a good reason. It was almost stolen outta Gringotts - I s'ppose yeh've worked that out an' all? Beats me how yeh even know abou' Fluffy."

"Oh, come on, Hagrid, you might not want to tell us but you do know, you know everything that goes on round here," said Hermione in a warm, flattering voice. Hagrid's beard twitched and they could tell he was smiling. "We only wondered who had _done_ the guarding really." Hermione went one, "We wondered who Dumbledore had trusted enough to help him, apart from you."

Hagrid's chest swelled at these last words. The other three beamed at Hermione.

"Well, I don' s'pose it could hurt ter tell yeh that … let's see … he borrowed Fluffy from me … then some o' the teachers did enchantments … Professor Sprout- Professor Flitwick - Professor McGonagall -" he ticked them of fhis fingers, " Professor Snape - an' Dumbledore himself did something', o' course. Hand on. I've forgotten someone. Oh yeah, Professor Quirrell."

"Quirrell," Neville whispered to no one.

"Yes, they are all tryin' to protect the stone, not steal it."

They were all thinking the same thing. With what they knew it seemed it might just be Fluffy that Quirrell did not know how to get past.

"You are the only one who knows how to get past Fluffy, aren't you, Hagrid?" asked Harry anxiously. "And you wouldn't tell anyone, would you? Not even one of the teachers?"

"Not a soul know except me an' Dumbleodre," said Hagrid proudly.

"Well, that's something," Harry muttered to the others. "Hagrid, can we open a window? I'm boiling."

"Can't, Harry, sorry," said Hagrid. Harry noticed him glance at the fire. Harry looked at it, too.

"Hagrid - what's _that_?"

But he already knew what it was. In they very heart of the fire, underneath the kettle, was a huge black egg.

"Ah," said Hagrid, fiddling nervously with his beard, "That's - er….."

"Where did you get it, Hagrid?" said Ron, crouching over the fire to get a closer look at the egg. "It must've cost you a fortune."

"Won it," said Hagrid. "Las' night. I was down in the village havin' a few drink an' got into a game o' cards with a stranger. Think he was quite glad ter get rid of it, ter be honest."

"But what are you going to do with it when it's hatched?" said Hermione.

"Well, I've bin goin' some readin'," said Hagrid, pulling out a large book from under his pillow. "Got this outta the library - _Dragon Breeding for Pleasure and Profit_ \- it's a bit outta date, o'course, but it's all in here. Keep the egg in the fire, 'cause their mothers breathe on 'em, see, an' when it hatches, feed it on a bucket o' brandy mixed with chicken blood every half hour. An' see here - how ter recognize diff'rent eggs - what I got there's a Norwegian Ridgeback. They're rare, them."

He looked very pleased with himself, but Hermione didn't.

"Hagrid, you live in a _wooden house_ ," she said.

But Hagrid wasn't listening. He was humming merrily as he stoked the fire.

So now they had something else to worry about; what might happen to Hagrid if anyone found out he was hiding an illegal dragon in his hut.

"Wonder what it's like to have a peaceful life," Ron sighed, as evening after evening they struggled through all the extra homework they were getting. Hermione had now started making study schedules for the boys too! It was driving them nuts!

Then, one breakfast time, Hedwig brought Harry another note from Hagrid. He had written only two words; _It's hatching._

Ron wanted to skip Herbology and go straight down to the hut, but Hermione and Neville both protested that the egg would have to wait.

"Hermione, how many times in our lives are we going to see a dragon hatching?"

"We've got lessons, we'll get into trouble, and that's nothing to what Hagrid's going to be in when someone finds out what he's doing -"

"Shut up!" Harry whispered.

Malfoy was only a few feet away and he had stopped dead to listen. How much had he heard? Harry didn't like the look on Malfoy's face at all, what had they done?

Ron and Hermione argued all the way to Herbology and in the end, Hermione agreed to run down to Hagrid's with the others during morning break. The boys were gleeful with anticipation. When the bell sounded from the castle at the end of their less, the four of them dropped their trowles at once and hurried through the grounds to the edge of the forest. Hagrid greeted them, looking flushed and excited.

"It's nearly out." He ushered them inside.

The egg was lying on the table. There were deep cracks in it. Something was moving inside; a funny clicking noise was coming from it. Harry was enthralled by the clicking and the sounds the creature was making.

They all drew their chairs up to the table and watched with bated breath. Harry felt a sense of urgency, and not just from him. He remembered Gringotts, the dragons there had sensed him, could this one as well. The urgency to escape the shell seemed to increase when Harry reached out to the dragon like he did to Sheila, and he knew. The dragon and him could communicate. He wondered if baby dragons where like baby humans. How much communication could you have with a baby dragon?

All at once there was a scraping noise and the egg split open. The baby dragon flopped onto the table. It wasn't exactly pretty; Harry though it looked like a crumpled, black umbrella. Its spiny wings were huge compared to its skinny jet body, it had a long snout with wide nostrils, the stubs of horns and bulging, orange eyes.

It looked right at Harry, and for a second Harry seemed to see himself from the dragons eyes in his mind. Harry could sense the dragon was confused, tired and hungry.

It sneezed. A couple of sparks flew out of its snout.

"Isn't he beautiful?" Hagrid murmured. He reached out a hand to stoke the dragon's head. It snapped at his fingers, showing pointed fangs.

"Bless him, look, he knows him mommy!" said Hagrid.

"How do you know it's a boy? I think it's a girl," Harry said, simply knowing he was right.

Hagrid looked at him and then closed his mouth, not really sure.

"Hagrid," said Hermione, "how fast do Norwegian Ridgebacks grow exactly?"

Hagrid was about to answer when the color suddenly drained from his face - he leapt to his feet and ran to the window.

"What's the matter?"

"Someone was lookin' through the gap in the curtains - it's a kid - he's runnin' back up ter the school."

Harry bolted to the door and looked out. Even at a distance there was no mistaking him.

Malfoy had seen the dragon.

Something about the smile lurking on Malfoy's face during the next week make the four of them very nervous. They spent most of their free time in Hagrid's darkened hut, trying to reason with him. Well the other three tried to make him see reason. Harry was the only one, much to Hagrid's displeasure, that was able to get close to it. Harry tried very hard to get the dragon to understand the danger she was in, but she seemed more enamored with Harry and wanted loves. It was like Harry was the loving mother and Hagrid was the food proving father.

"Just let her go," Harry piped in. "Set her free."

"It's a he," Hagrid held firm to that. "And I can't. He's too little. He'd die."

They looked at the dragon. It had grown three times in length in just a week. Smoke kept furling out of its nostrils. Hagrid hadn't been doing his gamekeeping duties because the dragon was keeping him so busy. There were empty brandy bottles and chicken feathers all over the floor.

"I've decided to call him Norbert," said Hagrid, looking at the dragon with misty eyes. "He really knows me, watch. Norbert! Norbert! Where's Mommy?"

Harry stepped away for the dragon as she (he) started snapping at Hagrid as if it wanted to be feed.

"He's lost his marbles," Ron muttered in Harry's ear.

"Hagrid," said Harry loudly, "give it two weeks and Norbert's going to be as long as your house. Malfoy could go to Dumbledore at any moment."

Hagrid bit his lip.

"I - I know I can't keep him forever, but I can't jus' dump him. I can't."

Harry suddenly turned to Ron.

"Charlie," he said.

"You're losing it too," said Ron. "I'm Ron, remember."

"No - Charlie - your brother, Charlie. In Romania. Studying dragons. We could send Norbert to him. Charlie can take care of him and then put him back in the wild!"

"Brilliant!" said Ron. "How about it, Hagrid?"

And in the end, Hagrid agreed they could send an owl to Charlie to ask him for his help. Harry also thought of the Goblins, maybe they would be his back up plan if Charlie couldn't help. They had dragons in the bank afterall, they must know how to handle them.

The following week dragged by. Wednesday night found Hermione, Neville and Harry sitting alone in the common room, long after everyone else had gone to bed. The clock on the wall had just chimed midnight when the portrait hole burst open. Ron appeared out of nowhere as he pulled Harry's invisibility cloak off of himself. It had been his turn to go down and help Hagrid feed Norbert, who was now eating dead rates by the crate.

"It bit me!" he said, showing them his hand, which was wrapped in a bloody handkerchief. "I'm not going to be able to hold a quill for a week! I tell you, that dragon is the most horrible animal I've ever meet, but the way Hagrid goes on about it, you'd think it was a fluffy little bunny rabbit. When it bit me he told ME off for frightening it. And when I left, he was singing it a lullaby...a bloody lullaby!"

A tap on the dark window interrupted his rant. Harry really liked the dragon and it was very obedient for Harry. Harry kinda wanted to get to know her, but Hogwarts was not the place for her. Harry was worried for Hagrid, he could get into so much trouble.

"It's Hedwig!" said Harry, hurrying to let her in. "She'll have Charlie's answer!"

They put their heads together and read.

 _Dear Ron,_

 _How are you? Thanks for the letter - I'd be glad to take the Norwegian Ridgeback, but it won't be easy to get him here. I think the best thing will be to send him over with some friends of mine who are coming to visit me next week. Trouble is, they mustn't be seen carrying an illegal dragon._

 _Could you get the Ridgeback up the tallest tower at midnight on Saturday? They can meet you there and take him away while it's still dark._

 _Send me an answer as soon as possible._

 _Love,_

 _Charlie_

They looked at one another.

"We've got the invisibility cloak," said Harry. "It shouldn't be too difficult - I think the cloak's big enough to cover two of us and Norbert."

It was a mark of how bad the last week had been that the others agreed with him. Anything to get rid for Norbert - and Malfoy.

Before Harry went to bed he wrote one more letter on a hunch, to Griphook. He told him the situation and the plan and said it was hard and would like a back up plan. He was wondering if the Goblins knew of a way to help.

The language was rough, he was still learning and he didn't know how to translate Norwegian Ridgeback, so he just put that in English. He sent it off with Hedwig before going to bed.

Hedwig returned the next night with the response. He said, best Harry could figure. That if the first plan did not work, to leave or bring,( he wasn't sure) the dragon to the forest. The goblins would find him.

Well, that was something. Not good, but at least it was something.

There was hitch in the plan when Ron woke up, Ron's bitten hand had swollen to twice it's usual size. They need to get rid of that dragon now. He wrote Griphook back, told him what had happened and said tonight, in the clearing he had followed Snape to was his chosen meeting place. It was the only place in the forest he knew of. He drew a picture to explain where it was.

Hagrid was not happy with the change of plans, and there was no way to let Charlie's friends know until they arrived, but it was the best they could do. Hagrid agreed to have Norbert ready and that it was best. Once he was told how nasty green Ron's hand had become was pressure enough for Hagrid. They were forced to take Ron to Madam Pomfrey before breakfast. It looked as if Norbert's fangs were poisonous.

By the end of the day they found Ron in a terrible state in bed.

"It's not just my hand," he whispered, "although that feels like it's about to fall off. Malfoy told Madam Pomfrey he wanted to borrow one of my books so he could come and have a good laugh at me. He kept threatening to tell her what really bit me - I've told her it was a dog, but I don't think she believes me - I should have hit him at the Quidditch match, that's why he's doing this."

The three of them tried to calm him down.

"It'll all be over tonight," said Hermione assured him.

"Huh," Ron said confused, "that's the problem.. Charlie's letter was in that book Malfoy took. He knows when we will be rid of Norbert."

"No he doesn't,"said Harry smiling. "Change of plans, the Goblins are taking him off our hands tonight."

Ron fell back in the bed, looking better already. The three of them were hurried out of the wing a few minutes later by Madam Pomfrey saying that Ron needed his sleep. That was fine, they only had a few hours to figure out how to get the dragon to the clearing at midnight. The other three went to the clubhouse to figure out how to accomplish the task.

They had decided that Harry and Neville would carry the crate Hagrid had agreed he would have ready. They would have the cloak. Hermione would follow, in the air on Harry's broom keeping look out at as high as she could comfortably fly. They talked about possible issues and in the end they felt they had a solid plan. All they had to do know was watch the clock, they went down to dinner. They collected Harry's broom after dinner and put it under his bed, he went down and practiced what he was going to say with Fradknus, hoping to please Griphook with his words.

At eleven fifteen they slowly made their way under the cloak. All three of them with the broom made for slow going. Finally, they reached Hagrid's hut. They would have felt sorry for Hagrid when the time came for him to say good-bye to Norbert if they hadn't been so worried about what they had to do. It was a very dark, cloudy night, and they were glad for the cover.

Hagrid had Norbert packed and ready in a large crate.

"He's got lots o' rate an' some brandy fer the journey," said Hagrid in a muffled voice. "An I've packed his teddy bear in case he gets lonely."

From inside the crate came ripping noises that sounded to Harry as though the teddy bear was having his head torn off.

"Bye-bye, Norbert!" Hagrid sobbed, as Harry and Hermione covered the crate with the invisibility cloak and Harry and Neville stepped under it themselves. Hermione gripped the broom and floated up and circled above the hut. She whispered 'all clear,' and they started on their way. It was a long walk, but Harry was using all his influence to keep Norbert calm and silent.

It was a long walk, and just before the appointed time, they reached the clearing. Hermione circled once, landed and then ran under the cloak to wait with them. Harry had managed to get Norbert to fall asleep.

Then at exactly midnight, a group of four goblins appeared out of thin air. Harry took a deep breath and stepped out from under the cloak.

$Great friend Griphook,$ said Harry pronouncing things as carefully as he could.

Harry bowed, and as planned his two friends stepped back. Pulling the cloak off of the crate, but keeping it on themselves. It seemed as if the crate just appeared.

When Harry ventured a look Griphook was smiling and bowing. The other three Goblins looked shocked beyond speech. He offered the crate to them with a wave of his arm.

$A gift for my friends, the goblins,$ Harry backed away from the crate.

Griphook came forward, the other three followed and looked in the crate. They each placed a hand on the crate. Griphook bowed at Harry and the crate and the Goblins disappeared. The Goblins had not said a word, he was not sure if that was good or bad.

Harry sighed and slipped under the cloak as fast as he could. They walked as fast as they could manage back to the tower. They'd done it!

They sent Hedwig with a letter to Charlie's friends explaining not to come to the tower the Saturday they were expected. Hedwig seemed to understand she was to intercept people on brooms coming to Hogwarts. She returned a little before midnight without the letter. Mission accomplished! They headed to bed. Harry feigned sleep a few minutes later when McGonagall peaked into the room. Harry hoped Malfoy would get in trouble, the snickering he heard coming from Ron's bed suggested he was thinking the same thing.


	18. Chapter 18 The Forbidden Forest

Chapter 18

The Forbidden Forest

The next morning they checked the giant hourglasses which recorded the house points and found that the Slytherin counter was fifty points lighter. Malfoy had been caught! When they saw him at breakfast he stared daggers at them. The quartet smiled at him.

Harry felt a little bad for sneaking around after talking with Dumbledore. But that had been weeks ago, and this had nothing to do with the Stone. This was saving Hagrid from getting into trouble.

Exams were not far away and they were soon studying with a passion. In Hermione's mind Norbert had cost them time, and they needed to make it up.

About a week before the exams were due to start, Harry's resolution not to interfere in anything that didn't concern him was put to an unexpected test. Walking back from the library on his own one afternoon, he heard somebody whimpering from a classroom up ahead. As he drew closer, he hear Quirrell's voice.

"No - no - not again, please -"

It sounded as though someone was threatening him. Harry moved closer.

"All right - all right -" he heard Quirrell sob.

The next second, Quirrell came hurrying out of the classroom straightening his turban. He was pale and looked as though he was about to cry. He strode out of sight; Harry didn't think Quirrell had even noticed him. He waited until Quirrell's footsteps had disappeared, then peered into the classroom. It was empty, he turned and ran down the hall. He had to tell Snape, whatever Quirrell could talk to had to be in that turban.

Harry was so focused on what he wanted to do that he ran right into the potions classroom without thinking. Right into the end of a class Snape was teaching, right into Snape with a potion in his hands.

"POTTER!" Snape bellowed at Harry as he hit the ground. Snape thankfully stayed standing.

It was not pretty. It was not good. Gratefully, the next minute the bell rang, and the class cleared out of there so fast you would have thought they were the ones in trouble.

"Explain yourself!" Snape demanded as he quickly cleaned the mess.

Harry turned to look at the door. It slammed shut and he cast a spell and looked at Harry. He quickly told Snape what he had just witnessed.

"I knew you were here, and it wasn't you. I came immediately and told you, just like I thought you'd want me to. I just...forgot about the class."

"That forgetfulness with cost you a detention...not one with me," he said sternly. "Now, go." Harry turned to leave, "Potter," he looked over his shoulder, "next time, think. Thank you for the information."

Harry trudged out of the dungeons to find the others.

The following morning Harry received a note. It read:

 _Your detention will take place at eleven o'clock tonight. Meet Mr. Filch in the entrance hall._

 _Professor McGonagall_

At eleven o'clock that night, he said good-bye to Ron in the common room and went down to the entrance hall. Filch was already there - and so was Malfoy and two other second years Harry didn't know. Harry had the pleasure of at least knowing Malfoy had gotten a detention for trying to get Hagrid and them caught.

"I bet you'll think twice about breaking a school rule again, won't you, eh?" he said, leering at them. "Oh yes … hard work and pain are the teachers if you ask me …. I's just a pity they let the old punishments die out … hang you by the your wrists from the ceiling for a few days, I've got the chains still my office, keep 'em well oiled in case they're ever needed …. Right, off we go, and don't think of running off, now, it'll be worse for you if you do."

They marched off across the dark grounds. Harry wondered what their punishment was going to be. It must be something really horrible, or Filch wouldn't be sounding so delighted.

The moon was bright, but clouds scudding across it kept throwing them into darkness, Ahead, Harry could see the lighted windows of Hagrid's hut. Then they heard a distant shout.

"Is that you, Filch? Hurry up, I want ter get started."

Harry's heart rose; if they were going to be working with Hagrid it wouldn't be so bad. His relief must have shown on his face, because Filch said, "I suppose you think you'll be enjoying yourself with that oaf? Well, think again, boy - it's into the forest you're going and I'm much mistaken if you'll all come out in one piece."

At this one of the second years let out a little moan, and Malfoy stopped dead in his tracks.

"The forest?" he repeated, and he did sound quite as cool as usual. "We can't go into there at night - there's all sorts of things in there - werewolves, I heard."

One second year grabbed the cloak of the other and made a choking sound.

"That's your problem, isn't it?" said Filch, his voice cracking with glee. "Should've thought of them werewolves before you got in trouble, shouldn't you?"

Hagrid came striding toward them out of the dark, Fang at his heel. He was carrying his large crossbow, and a quiver of arrows hung over his shoulder.

"Abou' time," he said. "I bin waitin' fer half an hour already. All right , Harry?"

"I shouldn't be too friendly to them Hagrid," said Filch coldly, "they're to be punished, after all."

"That's why yer late, is it?" said Hagrid, frowning at Filch. "Bin lecturin' them, eh? 'Snot your place ter do that. Yeh've done your bit, I'll take over from here."

"I'll be back at dawn," said Filch, "for what's left of them," he added nastily, and he turned and started back toward the castle, his lamp bobbing away in the darkness.

Malfoy now turned to Hagrid.

"I'm not going into that forest," he said, and Harry was pleased to hear the note of panic in his voice.

"Yeh are if yeh want ter stay at Hogwart," said Hagrid fiercely. "Yeh've done wrong an' now yeh've got to pay fer it."

"But this is servent stuff, it's not for students to do. I thought we'd be copying lines or something, if my father knew I was doing this, he'd -"

"- tell yer that's how it is at Hogwarts," Hagrid growled. "Copyin' lines! What good's that ter anyone? Yeh'll do summat useful or yeh'll get out. If yeh think yer father'd rather you were expelled, then get back off ter the castle an' pack. Go on!"

Malfoy didn't move. He looked at Hagrid furiously, but then dropped his gaze.

"Right then," said Hagrid, "now, listen carefully, 'cause it's dangerous what we're gonna do tonight, an' I don' want no one takin' risks. Follow me over here a moment."

He led then to the very edge of the forest. Holding his lamp up high, he pointed down a narrow, winding earth track which disappeared into the thick black trees. A light breeze lifted their hair as they looked into the forest.

"Look there," said Hagrid, "see that stuff shinin' on the ground? Silvery stuff? That's unicorn blood. There's a unicorn in there bin hurt badly by summat. This is the second time in a week. I found one dead last Wednesday. We're gonna try an' find the poor thing. We might have ter put it out of its misery."

"And what if whatever hurt the unicorn finds us first?" said Malfoy, unable to keep the fear out of his voice.

"There's nothin' that lives in the forest that'll hurt yeh if yer with me or Fang," said Hagrid. "An' keep ter the path. Right, now, we're gonna split inter wto parties an' follow the trail in diff'rent directions. There's blood all over the place, it must've bin staggerin' around since last night at least."

"I want Fang," said Malfoy quickly, looking at Fang's long teeth.

"All right, but I warn yeh, he's a coward," said Hagrid, "So me, Harry, an' you," said Hagrid pointing to a scared second year, "will go one way an' you two an' Fang'll go the other. Now, if any of us finds the unicorn, we'll send up green sparks, right? Get yer wands out an' practice now - that's it - an' if anyone gets in trouble, send up red sparks, an' we'll all come an' find yeh - so, be careful - let's go."

The forest was black and silent. A little way into it they reached a fork in the earth path, and they split up. Malfoy and company went right and Harry and company went left. They walked in silence, their eyes on the ground. Every now and then a ray of moonlight broke through the branches lighting a spot of silver-blue blood on the fallen leaves.

Harry saw that Hagrid looked very worried.

"Could a werewolf be killing the unicorns?" Harry asked.

"Not fast enough," said Hagrid. "It's not easy ter catch a unicorn, they're powerful magical creatures. I never knew one ter be hurt before."

They walked past a mossy tree stump. Harry could hear running water; there must be a stream somewhere close by. There were still spots of unicorn blood here and there along the winding path.

"You two all right?" Hagrid whispered. "Don't worry, it can't've gone far if it's this badly hurt, as' then we'll be able ter - GET BEHIND THAT TREE!"

Hagrid seized Harry and the other student and hoisted them off the path behind a towering oak. He pulled out an arrow and fitted it, ready to fire. The three of them listened. Something was slithering over dead leaves nearby; it sounded like a cloak trailing along the ground. Hagrid was squinting up the dark path, but after a few seconds the sound faded away.

"I knew it," he murmured. "There's summat in here that shouldn't be."

"A werewolf?" Harry suggested.

"That wan't no werewolf as' it wasn' no unicorn, neither," said Hagrid grimly. "Right, follow me, but careful, now."

They walked more slowly, ears staining for the faintest sound. Suddenly, in a clearing ahead, something definitely moved.

"Who's there?" Hagrid called. "Show yerself - I'm armed!"

And into the clearing came - was it a man, or a horse? To the waist, a man, with red hair and beard, but below that was a horse's gleaming chestnut body with a long, reddish tail. Harry's jaw dropped.

"Oh, it's you, Ronan," said Hagrid in relief. "How are yeh?"

He walked forward and shook the centaur's hand.

"Good evening to you, Hagrid," said Ronan. He had a deep, sorrowful voice. "Were you going to shoot me?"

"Can't be to careful, Ronan," said Hagrid, patting his crossbow. "There's summat bad loose in this forest. This is Harry Potter an' Aston Kennly, by the way. Students up at the school. An' this is Ronan, you two. He's a centaur."

"Good evening," said Ronan. "Students are you? And do you learn much, up at the school?"

"Erm -" said the second year call Aston.

"Loads," said Harry enthusiastically.

"Loads. Well, that's something." Ronan sighed. He flung back his head and started at the sky. "Mars is bright tonight."

"Yeah," said Hagrid, glancing up, too. "Listen, I'm glad we've run inter yeh, Ronan, 'cause there's a unicorn bin hurt - you seen anythin'?"

Ronan didn't answer immediately. He stared unblinkingly upward, then sighed again.

"Always the innocent are the first victims," he said. "So it had been for ages past, so it is now."

"Yeah," said Hagrid, "but have yeh seen anythin', Ronan? Anythin' unusual?"

"Mars is bright tonight," ronan repeated, while Hagrid watched him impatiently. "Unusually bright."

"Yeah, but I was meanin' anythin' unusual a bit nearer home," said Hagrid. "So yeh haven't noticed anythin' strange?"

Yet again, Ronan took a while to answer. At last, he said, "The forest hides many secrets."

A movement in the trees behind Ronan made Hagrid raise his bow again, but it was only a second centaur, black-haired and bodied and wilder-looking that Ronan.

"Hullo, Bane," said Hagrid. "All right?"

"Good evening, Hagrid, I hope you are well?"

"Well enough. Look, I've jus' bin askin' Ronan, you seen anythin' odd in here lately? There's a unicorn bin injured - would yeh know anythin' about it?"

Bane walked over to stand next to Ronan. He looked skyward.

"Mars is bright tonight," he said simply.

"We've heard," said Hagrid grumpily. "Well, if either of you do see anythin', let me know, won't yeh? We'll be off, then?"

Harry and Aston followed him out of the clearing, looking over their shoulders at Ronan and Bane until the trees blocked their view.

"Never," said Hagrid irritably, " try an' get a straight answer out of a centaur. Ruddy stargazers. Not interested in anythin' closer'n the moon."

"Are there many of them in here?" asked Aston.

"Oh, a fair few…. Keep themselves mostly, but they're good enough about turnin' up if ever I want a word. They're deep, mind, centaurs … they know things … jus' don' let on much."

"Do you think it was a centaur we heard earlier?" said Harry.

"Did that sound like hooves to you? Nah, if yeh ask me, that was what's bin killin' the unicorns - never heard anythin' like it before."

They walked on through the dense, dark trees. Harry kept looking nervously over his shoulder. His spidey senses were on full alert and telling him that there were things watching him which he could not see. He was very glad they had Hagrid and his crossbow with them. They had just passed a bend in the path when Aston grabbed Hagrid's arm.

"Hagrid! Look! Red sparks, the others are in trouble!"

"You two wait here!" Hagrid shouted. "Stay on the path, I'll come back for yeh!"

They heard him crashing away through the undergrowth and stood looking at each other, very scared, until they couldn't hear anything but the rustling of the leaves around them.

"You don't think they've been hurt, do you? Mike's my best friend," whispered Aston.

"I don't know, but I won't think so," Harry tried to reassure him. He wasn't sure, and really didn't care if Malfoy were to be hurt. However, he didn't want Hagrid to get in trouble for a student being injured under his care.

The minutes dragged by. Their ears seemed sharper than usual. Harry's seemed to picking up every sigh of the wind, every cracking twig. What was going on? Where were the others?

At last, a great crunching noise announced Hagrid's return. Malfoy, Mike and Fang beside him. Hagrid was fuming. Malfoy, it seemed, had sneaked up behind Mike and grabbed him as a joke. Mike panicked and sent up the sparks.

"We'll be lucky ter catch anythin' now, with the racket you two were makin'. Right, we are changin' groups - Ashton, you stay with me an' Mike, Harry, you go with Fang as' this idiot. I'm sorry," Hagrid said in a whisper to Harry, "but he'll have a harder time frightenin' you, an' we've gotta get this done."

So Harry set off into the heart of the forest with Malfoy and Fang. They walked for nearly an hour, deeper and deeper into the forest, until the path became almost impossible to follow because the trees were so thick. Harry thought the unicorn blood seemed to be getting thicker. There were splashed on the roots of a tree, as though the poor creature had been thrashing around in pain close by. Harry could see a clearing ahead, through the tangled branches of an ancient oak.

"Look-" he murmured, holding out his arm to stop Malfoy.

Something bright white was gleaming on the ground. They inched closer.

It was the unicorn alright, and it was dead. Harry had never seen anything so beautiful and sad. It's long, slender legs were stuck out at odd angles where it had fallen and its mane was spread pearly-white on the dark leaves.

Harry had taken one step toward it when a slithering sound made him freeze where he stood. A bush on the edge of the clearing quivered… Then, out of the shadows, a hooded figure can crawling across the ground like some stalking beast. Harry, Malfoy and Fang stood transfixed. The cloaked figure reached the unicorn, lowered its head over the wound in the animal's side, and began to drink its blood.

"AAAAAAAAAAARGH!

Malfoy let out a terrible scream and bolted - so did Fang. The hooded figure raised its head and looked right at Harry - unicorn blood was dripping down it's front. It got to its feet and came swiftly toward Harry - he couldn't move for fear.

Then a pain like he'd never felt before pierced his head; it was as though his scar were on fire. Half blinded, he staggered backward. He heard hooves behind him, galloping, and something jumped clean over Harry, charging at the figure.

The pain in Harry's head was so bad he fell to his knees. It took a minute or two to pass. When he looked up, the dark figure had gone. A centaur was standing over him, not Ronan or Bane; this one looked younger; he had white-blond hair and a palomino body.

"Are you alright?" said the centaur, pulling Harry to his feet.

"Yes - thank you - what _was_ that?"

The centaur didn't answer. He had astonishing blue eyes, like pale sapphires. He looked carefully at Harry, his eyes lingering on the scar that stood out, livid and angry, on Harry's forehead.

"You are the Potter boy," he said. "You had better get back to Hagrid. The forest is not safe at this time - especially for you. Can you ride? It will be quicker this way."

"My name is Firenze," he added as he lowered himself on to his front legs so Harry could clamber onto his back.

"Thank you," Harry said getting on. "I appreciate your help."

There was suddenly a sound of more galloping from the other side of the clearing. Ronan and Bane came bursting through the trees, their flanks heaving and sweaty.

"Firenze!" Bane thundered. "What are you doing? You have a human on your back! Have you no shame? Are you a common mule?"

Harry was in pain and angry, he felt the magic in him fighting to get out, he felt the warmth of his bracelet on his arm. This centaur, Firenze, was only trying to help him. Why were the other two looking at him and speaking at him so angrily.

"Do you realize who this is?" said Firenze. "This is the Potter boy. The quicker we get him out of the forest, the better."

"What have you been telling him?" growled Bane. "Remember, Firenze, we are sworn not to set ourselves against the heavens. Have we not read what is to come in the movements of the plants?"

Ronan pawed the ground nervously. "I'm sure Firenze thought he was acting for the best," he said in his gloomy voice.

Bane kicked his back legs in anger.

"For the best! What is that to do with this? Centaurs are concerned with what has been foretold! It is not our business to run around like donkeys after stray humans in our forest!"

Firenze suddenly reared on to his hind legs in ager, so Harry had to grab his shoulders to stay on.

"Do you not see that unicorn?" Firenze bellowed at Bane. "Do you not understand why it was killed? Or have the planets not let you in on that secret? I set myself against what is lurking in this forest, Bane, yes, with humans alongside me if I must."

And Firenze whisked around; with Harry clutching on as best he could, they plunged off into the trees, leaving Ronan and Bane behind them.

"Why is Bane so angry?" he asked. "What was that thing you saved me from, was - was it Voldemort?

Firenze slowed to a walk, warned Harry to keep his head bowed in case of low-hanging branches, but did not answer Harry's questions. They made their way through the trees in silence for so long Harry thought Firenze didn't want to talk to him anymore. They were passing through a particularly dense patch for threes, however, when Firenze suddenly stopped.

"Harry Potter, do you know what unicorn blood is used for?"

"No," said Harry, startled by the odd question. "We've only used the horn and tail hair in potions."

"That is because it is a monstrous thing, to slay a unicorn," said Firenze. "Only one who has nothing to lose, and everything to gain, would commit such a crime. The blood of a unicorn will keep you alive, even if you are an inch from death, but at a terrible price. You have slain something pure and defenseless to save yourself, and you will have but a half-life, a cursed life, form the moment the blood touches your lips."

"So Voldemort is that desperate and weak," Harry realized. "If you're going to be cursed forever anyway, death's better, isn't it?"

"It is," Firenze agreed, "unless all you need is to stay alive long enough to drink something else - something that will bring you back to full strength and power - something that will mean you can never die. Mr. Potter, do you know what is hidden in the school at this very moment?"

"It's the Sorcerer's Stone. He wants it so that he can make the Elixir of Life," Harry said sadly. "I know, and I don't know what I can do about it."

"I would not think Albus would have told one so young," Firenze said studying him.

"He didn't. My friends and I figured it out, little by little, over the school year. I know they are trying to catch him when he is weak, they don't want him to get his strength back. What I don't understand is why the entire police force of the wizarding world is not out here in this forest trying to find him. I just don't understand why they don't do more."

Firenze nodded, "Albus knows and understand, but the rest of the wizarding world is blinded by their own foolishness. They can't see what is right in front of them. They choose to believe he has been gone since that night he tried to kill you."

"Firenze, if no one is willing to do anything, what are we going to do? He's out there," Harry said rubbing his scar, he felt the prickly magic free again in his body. "I know he is, I can feel him. He isn't going to stop trying. Dumbledore says he wants to know why, why he didn't kill me that night."

"Be careful Harry Potter," Firenze warned. "Something are written in the stars, sometimes we read them right, sometimes we centaurs read them wrong."

"But the plants and stars always follow the same paths, or orbits. They are very predictable," Harry said confused.

"Are they?" Firenze said as he started to walk again.

Harry was silent for a few minutes.

"I like you Firenze," Harry decided. "I would like to be your friend."

"That would please me as well," Firenze agreed. "May I ask you something?"

"Sure," Harry said.

"Is there a serpent on you?" he asked. "I can smell the scent," he explained.

"Yes, Sheila, she is my familiar. She is safe. She helps keep me safe too, and is someone I can talk to about things no one else seems to understand. I've spent many hours when I should have been sleeping talking to her. I don't think I could deal with all the stuff in my life without her to talk to."

"You speak of her as if she is your equal?" Firenze said more as an astonished statement than anything else.

"Well, she's a snake and I am a human. But she is an intelligent, sentient being, like me or you. I don't look at her any different than say Franny, the house-elf, or Griphook, the goblin, or Hermione, the witch. They are all my friends, they are all intelligent, sentient beings. She rides with me, I ride with you, size doesn't really matter in this sense."

"You are a unique wizard, Harry Potter," Firenze said. "I am honored to call you friend."

"HARRY!" Boomed Hagrid voice not far off, soon his thunderous steps could he hear.

"I'm fine!" Harry yelled as he saw the group coming down the path. "The unicorn's dead, Hagrid," he said when they were closer, "it's in the clearing back there."

"This where I leave you," Firenze murmured as Hagrid hurried off to examine the unicorn. "You are safe now."

Harry slid off his back. "Thank you again for saving me," he said sincerely looking into his eyes. Firenze seemed to be looking into Harry's trying to see or understand him.

"Good luck, Harry Potter," said Firenze, "The planets have been read wrongly before now, even by centaurs. I am thinking this may be one of those times. You are not what one would expect. I hope we see each other again."

He turned and cantered back into the depths of the forest, leaving Harry shivering behind him.

Ron, Neville, and Hermione were asleep in the common room waiting for him to return. Harry shook them awake and told them all of what had happened in the forest.

Harry couldn't sit down. He paced up and down in front of the fire. He was still shaking.

"Quirrell wants the stone for Voldemort… and Voldemort's waiting in the forest… and all this time we are just sitting here...like none of this is going on.

"Stop saying his name!" said Ron in a terrified whisper, as if he thought Voldemort could hear him.

Harry wasn't listening.

"Firenze saved me, but he shouldn't have done so...Bane was furious… he was talking about interfering with what the planets say is going to happen…. They must show Voldemort's coming back...Bane thinks Firenze should have let Voldemort kill me….I suppose that's written in the stars as well."

" _Will you stop saying the name!"_ Ron hissed.

"So all I've got to wait for now is Quirrell to seal the Stone," Harry went on feverishly, "the Voldemort will be able to come and finish me off….Well, I suppose Bane will be happy."

Hermione looked very frightened, but she had a word of comfort.

"Harry, everyone says Dumbledore's the only one You-Know-Who was ever afraid of. With Dumbledore around, You-Know-Who won't touch you. Anyway, who says the centaurs are right? It sounds like fortune-telling to me, and Professor McGonagall says that's a very imprecise branch of magic."

The sky turned light before they stopped talking and Harry realized he mad missed any chance of talking with Snape. He tried to get as much of the prickly magic put back away as he could before falling asleep exhausted.


	19. Chapter 19 Through the Trap Door

Chapter 19

Through the Trap Door

In the years to come, Harry would never quite remember how he had managed to get through his exams when he half expected Voldemort to come bursting through the door at any moment. Even talking to Snape did not change things, though Harry could tell he was anxious as well. Yet the days crept by, and there could be no doubt that Fluffy was still alive and well behind the locked door.

It was sweltering hot, especially in the large classroom where they did their written papers. They has been given special, new quills for the exams, which had been bewitched with an Anti-Cheating spell.

They had practical exams as well. Professor Flitwick called them one by one into his class to see if they could make a pineapple tap-dance across a desk. Professor McGonagall watched them turn a mouse into a snuff box - points were given for how pretty the snuffbox was, but taken away if it had whiskers. Snape made them all nervous, breathing down their necks while they tried to remember how to make a Forgetfulness potion. The four of them had practiced and practiced that one in Harry's trunk. He was confident they would all do well if they didn't let their nerves get them.

Harry did the best he could, trying to ignore the stabbing pains in his forehead, which had been bothering him ever since his trip into the forest. He had doubled the length of his mental homework morning and night, but still the prickly magic always escaped. He was simply not able to keep it contained. He surmised it was because Voldemort was so close and since it was his magic… well it didn't respond to him like his mom's. Neville thought Harry had a bad case of exam nerves because Harry couldn't sleep, but the truth was Harry kept being woken by his old nightmare, except it was now worse than ever because there was a hooded figure dripping silver blood in them.

Maybe it was because they hadn't seen what Harry had seen in the forest, or because they didn't have scars burning on their foreheads, but the other three didn't seen as worried about the Stone as Harry. The idea of Voldemort certainly scared them, but he didn't keep visiting them in dreams, and they were so busy with their studying they didn't have much time to fret about what Quirrell or anyone else might be up to.

Their very last exam was History of Magic. One hour of answering questions about batty old wizards who'd invented self-stirring cauldrons and they'd be free, free for a whole wonderful week until their exam results came out. When the ghost of Professor Binns told them to put down their quills and roll up their parchment, Harry couldn't help cheering with the rest.

"That was far easier that I thought it would be," said Hermione as they joined the crowds flocking out onto the sunny grounds. "I needn't have learned about the 1637 Werewolf Code of Conduct or the uprising of Elfic the Eagar."

Hermione always liked to go through their exam papers afterward, but Ron said this made him feel ill, so they wandered down to the lake and flopped under a tree. The Weasley twins and Lee Jordan were tickling the tentacles of a giant squid, which was basking in the warm shallows.

"No more studying," Ron sighed happily, stretching out on the grass. "You could look more cheerful, Harry, we've got a week before we find out how we did, there's no need to worry yet."

Harry was rubbing his forehead.

"I wish I knew what this _means_!" he burst out angrily. "My scar keeps hurting - it's happened before, but never as often as this."

"Go to Madam Pomfrey," Hermione suggested.

"I'm not ill," said Harry. "I think it's a warning … I think is Vol - him," Hary changed when Ron started to complain. "I think it means he's doing something or wants to do something. I think it means danger."

Ron couldn't get worked up, it was too hot.

"Harry, try and and relax," Neville said. "Exams are over."

"Neville and Hermione are right," Ron agreed. "The Stone is safe as long as Dumbledore's around. Anyway, we've never had any proof that Quirrell had found a way to get past Fluffy. And Neville will play Quidditch for England before Hagrid lets down Dumbledore."

"Yep," Neville agreed.

Harry nodded, but he couldn't shake off a lurking feeling that there was something he'd forgotten to do, something important. When he tried to explain this, Hermione said, "That's just the exams. I woke up last night and was halfway through my Transfiguration notes before I remembered we'd done that one."

Harry was quite sure the unsettled feeling didn't have anything to do with work, though. He watched an owl flutter toward the school across the bright blue sky, a note clamped in its mouth. Hagrid would send him notes. Hagrid would never betray Dumbledore. Hagrid would never tell anyone how to get past Fluffy ... never … but -

Harry suddenly jumped to his feet.

"Where're you going?" said Ron sleepily.

"I've just thought of something," said Harry. He had turned white. "We've got to see Hagrid, now."

"Why?" panted Hermione, hurrying to keep up.

"Don't you think it's a bit odd," said Harry, scrambling up the grassy slope, "that what Hagrid wants more than anything else is a dragon, and a stranger turns up who just happens to have an egg in his pocket? How many people wander around with dragon eggs if it's against wizard law? Lucky they found Hagrid, don't you think? Why didn't I see this before?"

"What are you going on about?" said Ron as he and Neville caught up.

But Harry didn't answer he was sprinting across the grounds toward the forest, toward Hagrid.

Hagrid was sitting in an armchair outside his house, his trousers and sleeves were rolled up and he was shelling peas into a large bowl.

"Hullo," he said, smiling. "Finished yer exams? Got time fer a drink?"

"Yes, please," said Ron, catching up, the other two still coming.

"No, we're in a hurry. Hagrid, I've got to ask you something. You know that night you won Norbert? What did the stranger you were playing cards with look like?"

"Dunno," said Hagrid casually, "he wouldn't take his cloak off."

He saw the four of them look stunned and raised his eyebrows.

"It's not that unusual, yeh get a lot o' funny folk in the Hog's Head - that's the pub down in the village. Mighta bin a dragon dealer, mightn' he? I never saw his face, he kept his hood up."

Harry sank down next to the bowl of peas.

"What did you talk to him about, Hagrid? Did you mention Hogwarts at all?"

"Mighta come up," said Hagrid, frowning as he tried to remember. "Yeah...he asked what I did, an' I told him I was gamekeeper here… He asked a bit about the sorta creatures I look after...so I told him...an' I said what I'd always really wanted was a dragon...an' then … I can' remember too well, 'cause he kept buyin' me drinks…. Let's see...yeah, then he said he had the dragon egg an' we could play cards fer it if I wanted … but he had ter be sure I could handle it, he didn't want it ter go ter any old home….So I told him, after Fluffy, a dragon would be easy…"

"And did he - did he seem interested in Fluffy?" Harry asked, trying to keep his voice calm.

"Well - yeah - how many three-headed dogs d'yeh meet, even around Hogwarts? So I told him, Fluffy's a piece o' cake if yeh know how to calm him down, jus' play him a bit o' music as' he'll go straight off ter sleep-"

Hagrid suddenly looked horrified.

"I shouldn'ta told yeh that!" he blurted out. "Forget I said it! Hey - where're yeh goin'?"

The four of them didn't speak to each other at all until they came to a halt in the entrance hall, which seemed very cold and gloomy after the grounds.

"We've got to go to Dumbledore," Harry said. "Hagrid told that stranger how to get past Fluffy, and it was probably Quirrell under that cloak, it must've been easy, once he got Hagrid drunk. I just hope Dumbledore believes us. Where's Dumbledore's office?"

They looked around, as if hoping to see a sign pointing them in the right direction.. They has never been told where Dumbledore liced, nor did they know anyone who had been to see him.

"We'll just have to -" Harry began, but a voice suddenly rang across the hall.

"What are you four doing inside?"

It was Professor McGonagall, carrying a large pile of books.

"We want to see Professor Dumbledore," said Hermione, rather bravely, Harry and Ron thought.

"See Professor Dumbledore?" Professor McGonagall repeated, as though this was a very fishy thing to want to do. "Why?"

Harry swallowed - now what?

"It's about….well it's sort of a secret," he said, but he wished at once he hadn't, because Professor McGonagall's nostrils flared.

"Professor Dumbledore left ten minutes ago," she said coldly. "He received an urgent owl from the Ministry of Magic and flew off for London at once."

"He's _gone_?" said Harry frantically. " _Now_?"

"Professor Dumbledore is a very great wizard, Potter, he has many demands on his time -"

"But this is important."

"Something you have to say is more important than the Ministry of Magic, Potter?"

Harry started to squirm, he didn't want to say yes, but it really was.

"Look," said Harry, throwing caution to the winds, "Professor - it's about the Sorcerer's Stone -"

Whatever Professor McGonagall had expected, it wasn't that. The books she was carrying rumbled out of her arms, but she didn't pick them up.

"How do you know -?" she spluttered.

"Professor, I think...I KNOW- that someone's going to try and steal the Stone. I've got to talk to Professor Dumbledore, now!"

She eyed him with a mixture of shock and suspicion.

"Professor Dumbledore will be back tomorrow," she said finally. "I don't know how you found out about the Stone, but rest assured, no one can possible steal it, it's too well protected."

"But Professor-"

"Potter, I know what I am talking about," she said shortly. She bent down and gathered up the fallen books. "I suggest you all go back outside and enjoy the sunshine."

But they didn't, they couldn't.

"It's tonight," said Harry, once he was sure Professor McGonagall was out of earshot. "Quirrell's going through the trapdoor tonight. He's found everything he needs, and now he's got Dumbledore out of the way. He sent that note, I bet the Ministry of Magic will get a real shock when Dumbledore turns up."

"But what can we -"

Hermione gasped. The three boys wheeled around.

Snape was standing there.

"Good afternoon," he said smoothly.

They stared at him and Harry relaxed and blurted out.

"We just left Hagrid, he knows how to get past Fluffy, Dumbledore's been called away, he's going to try tonight." Harry said looking at him pleadingly.

Snape raised an eyebrow then nodded in acknowledgement.

"I will take care of it, you shouldn't be inside on a day like this," he urged, trying to remind him this was not his concern.

He strode off in the direction of the staffroom, Harry wasn't convinced the situation was under control.

Out on the stone steps, Harry turned to the others.

"Right, here's what we've got to do," he whispered urgently. "One of us has got to keep an eye on Quirrell. Wait outside of the staffroom, my guess is that he is in there. Follow him when he leaves. Hermione, you'd better do that."

"Why me?"

"It's obvious," said Ron. "You can pretend to be waiting for Professor Flitwick, you know." He put on a high voice. "Oh Professor Flitwick, I'm so worried, I think I got question 14 b wrong …"

"Oh, shut up," said Hermione, but she agreed to go and watch out for Quirrell.

"And we three better stand guard outside the third-floor corridor," Harry told the other two. "Let's go."

But that part of the plan didn't work. No sooner had they reached the door separating Fluffy from the rest of the school than Professor McGonagall turned up again and this time, she lost her temper.

"I suppose you think you're harder to get past than a pack of enchantments!" she stormed. "Enough of this nonsense! If I hear you've come anywhere near here again, I'll take fifty points from Gryffindor! Each! Yes, Weasley, from my own house, even if it takes us out of the running for the cup!"

Harry, Neville, and Ron went back to the common room. Harry had just said, "At least Hermione's on Quirrell tail," when the portrait of the Fat Lady swung open and Hermione came in.

"I'm sorry, Harry!" she wailed. "Snape came out and asked me what I was doing, so I said I was waiting for Flitwick, and Snape went to get him, and I've only just got away. But Quirrell left as I was talking to Flitwick, and I don't know where he went. I've looked everywhere."

"Well, that's it then, isn't it?" Harry said.

The others stared at him. He was pale and his eyes were glittering.

"I'm going out of here tonight and I'm going to try and get to the Stone first."

"You're mad!" said Ron.

"You can't!" said Hermione.

"After what McGonagall said, you'll be expelled for sure!" Neville pleaded.

"SO WHAT?" Harry shouted. "Don't you understand? If Quirrell gets hold of that Stone, Voldemort's coming back! Haven't you heard what it was like when he was trying to take over? There won't be any Hogwarts to get expelled from! He'll flatten it, or turn it into a school for the Dark Arts! Losing house points doesn't matter anymore, can't you see? D'you think he'll leave you and your families alone if Gryffindor wins the house cup? If I get caught before I can get to the Stone, well, I'll have to go somewhere else and wait for Voldemort to find me there, it's only dying a bit later than I would have, because I'm never going over to the Dark Side! I'm going through that trapdoor tonight and nothing you guys say is going to stop me! Voldemort killed my parents, remember?"

He glared at them.

"You're right, Harry," Neville said near tears thinking of his parents, too. "I'm going with you!"

"Thanks, Neville," Harry said. "We'll use the invisibility cloak."

"But will it cover all four of us?" said Ron.

"All - four of us?"

"Oh, come off it, you don't think we'd let you two go without us?"

"Of course not," said Hermione briskly. "How do you think you'd get to the Stone without us? I'd better go and look through my books, there might be something useful…"

"But if we get caught, you three will be expelled, too."

"Not if I can help it," said Hermione grimly. "Flitwick told me in secret that I got a hundred and twelve percent on his exam. They're not throwing me out after that."

After dinner the four of them sat nervously apart in the common room. Hermione was skimming through all her notes, hoping to come across one of the enchantments they were about to try to break. Harry and Ron didn't talk much. Neville looked sick, and was told by more than one concerned Gryffindor that he needed to go see Madam Pomfrey. All of them were thinking about what they were about to do.

Slowly, the room emptied as people drifted off to bed.

"Better get the cloak," Ron muttered, as Lee Jordan finally left, stretching and yawning. Harry ran upstairs to their dark dormitory. He pulled out the cloak and then his eyes fell on the flute Hagrid had given him for Christmas. He pocketed it to use on Fluffy - he didn't feel much like singing.

He ran back down to the common room.

"We'd better put the cloak on here, and make sure it covers all four of us - if Filch spots one of our feet wandering along on its own -"

They discovered if Neville and Ron stood side by side in the back and Harry and Hermione stood side by side in the front, they could all fit. This cloak was big enough to cover Hagrid, it seemed.

At the foot of the first set of stairs, they spotted Mrs. Norris skulking near the top.

"Oh, let's kick her, just this once," Ron whispered in Harry's ear, but Harry shook his head. As they climbed carefully around her, Mrs. Norris turned her lamplike eyes on them, but didn't do anything.

They had to move slowly and in step with one another. They were making sure they were not taking chances.

They didn't meet anyone else until they reached the staircase up to the third floor. Peeves was bobbing halfway up, loosening the carpet so that people would trip.

"Who's there?" he said suddenly as they climbed toward him. He narrowed his wicked black eyes. "Know you're there, even if I can't see you. Are you ghoulie or ghostie or wee student beastie?"

He rose up in the air and floated there, squinting at them.

"Should call Filch, I should if something's a-creeping around unseen."

Harry had a sudden idea.

"Peeves," he said, in a hoarse whisper, "the Bloody Baron has his own reasons for being invisible."

Peeves almost fell out of the air in shock. He caught himself in time and havered about a foot off the stairs.

"So sorry, your bloodiness, Mr. Baron, sir," he said greasily. "My mistake, my mistake - I didn't see you - of course I didn't, you're invisible - forgive old Peevsie his little joke, sir."

"I have business here, Peeves," croaked Harry. "Stay away from this place tonight."

"I will, sir, I most certainly will," said Peeves, rising up in the air again. "Hope your business goes well, Baron, I'll not bother you."

And he scooted off.

" _Brilliant_ Harry!" whispered Ron.

A few seconds later, they were there, outside the third-floor corridor - and the door was already ajar.

"Well, there you are," Harry said quietly, "Quirrell's already got past Fluffy."

Seeing the open door somehow seemed to impress upon all four of them what was facing them. Underneath the cloak, Harry turned to the others.

"If you want to go back, I won't blame you," he said. "You can take the cloak, I won't need it now."

"Don't be stupid," said Ron.

"We're coming," Hermione added.

"We're a team," Neville shrugged.

Harry pushed the door open.

As the door creaked, low, rumbling growls met their ears. All three of the dog's noses sniffed madly in their direction, even though it couldn't see them.

They pushed the door almost closed then got out from under the cloak. Harry folded it up and stuck it in the small bag taking out the flute.

"What's that at its feet?" Hermione whispered.

"Looks like a harp," said Ron. "It must be what Quirrell used."

"He's waking up," said Harry. "Here goes nothing…"

He out Hagrid's flute to his lips and blew. It wasn't really a tune, but from the first note the beast's eyes began to droop. Harry hardly drew breath. Slowly, the dog's growls ceased - its eyes started to close again, and soon it was fast asleep.

"Keep playing," Ron warned Harry as they slipped toward the trapdoor. They could feel the dog's hot, smelly breath as they approached the giant heads.

"I think we'll be able to pull the door open," whispered Ron, peering over the dog's back. "Want to go first Hermione?"

"No, I don't," Hermione said.

"I'll go," said Neville.

Ron held the trap door open and peered in, it was dark, he looked at Neville. Neville stepped over and looked down.

"Nothing - just black - there's no way of climbing down, we'll just have to drop."

Harry, who was still playing the flute, waved at Neville as if to say he would go first. Neville shook his head no and jumped in. There was a few seconds of silence and then they heard Neville's voice.

"It's Devil's Snare. A plant, if you hold still you will drop through. Don't struggle or move," he said urgently.

Before he had even finished, Hermione jumped down.

"I'm good," she said a few second laters. Harry waved Ron down. There was a strangled cry from Ron, then a thud. Harry jumped down into the darkness, letting the trap door shut on his way down.

Landing on the plant was soft, but unsettling. He felt the creepers of the vines wrap around him, then the reminder from below.

"Just relax, Harry, don't move," Neville reassured him.

Going against all instincts he left himself be drug down by the plant and fell out the bottom landing feet first, just as he had jumped.

The other three were already standing there waiting for him.

"That was odd," Harry said as he looked up.

"Devil's Snare will kill you," Neville said softly looking up. "If you struggle at all, you'll be dead in a matter of a few minutes. The vines will strangle you."

"Lucky you know your plants, Neville," Harry said looking around. "This way," he said, pointing down a stone passageway, which was the only way forward.

All they could hear apart from their footsteps was the gentle drip of water trickling down the walls. The passageway sloped downward, and Harry was reminded of Gringotts. With an unpleasant jolt of the heart, he remembered the dragons guarding vaults in the wizards' bank. If they met a dragon, a fully-grown dragon - what would they do?

"Can you hear something?" Ron whispered.

Harry listened. A soft rustling and clicking seemed to be coming form up ahead.

"Do you think it's a ghost?"

"I don't know … sounds like wings to me."

"There's light ahead - I can see something moving."

They reached the end of the passageway and saw before them a brilliantly lit chamber, its ceiling arching high above them. It was full of small, jewel-bright birds, fluttering and tumbling all around the room. On the opposite side of the chamber was a heavy wooden door.

"Do you think they'll attack us if we cross the room?" said Ron.

"Probably," said Harry. "They don't look very vicious, but I suppose if they all swooped down at once … well. There's no other choice … I'll run."

He took a deep breath, covered his face with his arms, and sprinted across the room. He expected to feel sharp beaks and claws tearing at him any second, but nothing happened. He reached the door untouched. He pulled the handle, but it was locked.

The other three followed quickly. They tugged and heaved at the door, but it wouldn't budge, not even when Hermione tried her Alohomora charm.

"Now what?" said Ron.

"These birds… they can't be here just for decoration," said Hermione.

They watched the birds soaring overhead, glittering - _glittering_?

"They're not birds!" Harry said suddenly. "They're _keys_! Winged keys - look carefully. So that must mean…" he looked around the chamber while the other three squinted up at the flock of keys. "...yes - look! Broomsticks! We've got to catch the key to the door!"

"But there are hundreds of them!" said Neville, in awe at the choices.

Ron examined the lock on the door.

"We're looking for a big, old-fashioned one - probably silver, like the handle."

They each seized a broomstick and kicked off into the air, Neville was still very unsteady, but he was trying. The flew in the midst of the cloud of keys. They grabbed and snatched, but the bewitched keys darted and divide so quickly it was almost impossible to catch one, let alone the right one.

Not for nothing, though, was Harry the youngest Seeker in a century. He had a knack for spotting things other people didn't. After a minute's weaving about through the whirl of rainbow feathers, he noticed a large silver key that had a bent wing, as if it had already been caught and stuffed roughly into the keyhole.

"That one!" he called to the others. "That big one - there - no, there - with bright blue wings - the feathers are all crumpled on one side."

Ron went speeding in the direction that Harry was pointing, crashed into the ceiling, and nearly fell off his broom.

"We've got to close in on it!" Harry called, not taking his eyes off the key with the damaged wing. "Ron, you come at if from above - Hermione, stay below and stop it from coming down. Neville, block the right side, and I'll try and catch it. Right, NOW!"

Ron dived, and Hermione rocketed upward, Neville pushed in from the right, and Harry streaked after it; it sped toward the wall, Harry leaned forward and with a nasty, crunching noise, pinned it against the stone with one hand. The cheers', from the others, echoed around the high chamber.

They landed quickly, and Harry ran to the door, the key struggling in his hand. He rammed it into the lock and turned - it worked. The moment the lock had clicked open, the key took flight again, looking very battered now that it had been caught twice.

"Ready?" Harry asked the other two, his hand on the door handle. They nodded. He pulled the door open.

The next chamber was so dark they couldn't see anything at all. But as they stepped into it, light suddenly flooded the room to reveal an astonishing sight.

They were standing on the edge of a huge chessboard, behind the black chessmen, which were all taller than they were and carved from what looked like black stone. Facing them, way across the chamber, were the white pieces. Harry, Ron, Neville, and Hermione shivered slightly - the towering while chessmen had no faces.

"Now what do we do?" Harry whispered.

"It's obvious, isn't it?" said Ron. "We've got to play our way across the room."

Behind the white pieces they could see another door.

"How?" said Hermione nervously.

"I think," said Ron, "we're going to have to be chessman."

He walked up to a black night and put his hand to touch the knight's horse. At once, the stone sprang to life. The horse pawed the ground and the knight turned his helmeted head to look down at Ron.

"Do we - er - have to join you to get across?"

The black knight nodded. Ron turned to the other three.

"This needs thinking about…." he said. "I suppose we've got to take the place of three of the black pieces…."

Harry and Hermione stayed quiet, watching Ron think. Finally he said. "Now, don't be offended or anything, but none of you are that good at chess -"

"We're not offended," said Harry quickly. "Just tell us what to do."

"Well, Neville, you take the place of that bishop, and Hermione, you go next to him instead of that castle. Harry, you take the place of the king."

"What about you?"

"I'm going to be knight," said Ron.

The chessmen seemed to have been listening, because at these words a knight, a bishop, a castle and the king turned their backs on the white pieces and walked off the board, leaving four empty squares that Harry, Ron, Neville, and Hermione took.

"White always plays first in chess," said Ron, peering across the board. "Yes … look …"

A white pawn had moved forward two squares.

Ron started to direct the black pieces. They moved silently wherever he sent them. Harry's knees were trembling. What if they lost?

"Neville - move diagonally four squares to the right."

Their first real shock came when their other knight was taken. The white queen smashed him to the floor and dragged him off the board, where he lay quite still, facedown.

"Had to let that happen," said Ron, looking shaken. "Leaves you free to take that bishop, Hermione, go on."

Every time on of their men was lost, the white pieces showed no mercy. Soon there was a huddle of limp black players slumped along the wall. Twice, Ron only noticed in time that Neville and Hermione were in danger. He himself darted around the board, taking almost as many white pieces as they had lost black ones.

"We're nearly there," he muttered suddenly. "Let me think - let me think …"

The white queen turned her blank face toward him.

"Yes…" said Ron softly, "it's the only way … I've got to be taken."

"No!" the others shouted.

"That's chess!" snapped Ron. "You've got to make some sacrifices! I take one step forward and she'll take me - that leaves you free to checkmate the king, Neville!"

"But -"

"Do you want to stop Quirrell or not?"

"Ron -"

"Look, if don't hurry up, he'll already have the Stone!"

There was no alternative.

"Ready?" Ron called, his face pale but determined. "Here I go - now, don't hang around once you've won."

He stepped forward, and the white queen pounced. She struck Ron hard across the head with her stone arm, and he crashed to the floor - Hermione screamed but stayed on her square - the white queen dragged Ron to one side. He looked as if he'd been knocked out.

Shaking, Neville moved three spaces to the left.

The white king took off his crown and threw it at Neville's feet. They had won. The chessmen parted and bowed, leaving the door ahead clear. The other three looked at each other and Neville was the first to speak.

"You two go ahead. I will stay with Ron and make sure he is okay."

He moved toward Ron as Harry and Hermione walked toward the door watching them.

"He's breathing and not bleeding too bad. I think he's just unconscious," he assured them as he sat down beside his fallen friend.

Harry and Hermione charged through the door and up the next passageway.

"What if he never -"

"He'll be alright," said Harry, trying to convince himself. "What so you reckon's next?"

"We've had Sprout's, that was the Devil's Snare; Flitwick must've put charms on the keys; McGonagall transfigured the chessman to make them alive; that leaves Quirrell's spell, and Snape's …"

They reached another door.

"All right?"

"Go on."

Harry pushed open the door.

A disgusting smell filled their nostrils, making both of them pull their robes over their noses. Eyes watering, they saw, flat on the floor in front of them, a troll even larger than the one they had tackled, out cold with a bloody lump on its head.

"I'm glad we didn't have to fight that one," Harry whispered as they stepped carefully over one of its massive legs. "Come on, I can't breathe."

He pulled open the next door, both of them hardly daring to look at what came next - but there was nothing very frightening in here, just a table with seven differently shaped bottles standing on it in a line.

"Snape's," said Harry. "What do we have to do?"

They stepped over the threshold, and immediately a fire sprang up behind them in the doorway. It wasn't ordinary fire either; it was purple. At the same instant, black flames shot up in the doorway leading onward. They were trapped.

"Look!" Hermione seized a roll of paper lying next to the bottles. Harry looked over her shoulder to read it:

 _Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind,  
Two of us will help you, whichever you would find,  
One among us seven will let you move ahead,  
Another will transport the drinker back instead,  
Two among our number hold only nettle wine,  
Three of us are killers, waiting hidden in line.  
Choose, unless you wish to stay here for evermore,  
To help you in your choice, we give you these clues four:  
First, however slyly the poison tries to hide  
You will always find some on nettle wine's left side;  
Second, different are those who stand at either end,  
But if you would move onwards, neither is your friend;  
Third, as you see clearly, all are different size,  
Neither dwarf nor giant holds death in their insides;  
Fourth, the second left and the second on the right  
Are twins once you taste them, though different at first sight._

Hermione let out a great sigh and Harry, amazed, saw that she was smiling, the very last thing he felt like doing.

" _Brilliant_ ," said Hermione. "This isn't magic - it's logic - a puzzle. A lot of the greatest wizards haven't got an ounce of logic, they'd be stuck in here forever.

"But so will we, won't we?"

"Of course not," said Hermione. "Everything we need is here on this paper. Seven bottles: three are poison; two are wine; one will get us safely through the black fire, and one will get us back through the purple."

"But how do we know which to drink?"

"Give me a minute."

Hermione read the paper several times. Then she walked up and down the line of bottles, muttering to herself and pointing to them. At last, she clapped her hands.

"Got it," she said. "The smallest bottle will get us through the black fire - toward the Stone."

Harry looked at the tiny bottle.

"There's only enough there for one of us," he said. "That's hardly one swallow."

They looked at each other.

"Which one will get you back through the purple flames?"

Hermione pointed at a rounded bottle at the right end of the line.

"You drink that," said Harry. "No, listen, get back to Ron and Neville. Hopefully he will be awake. Grab brooms from the key room and go straight to the owlery and send Hedwig to Dumbledore, we need him. I might be able to hold Quirrell off for a while, but I am no match for him, really."

"But Harry - what if You-Know-Who's with him?"

"Well - I was lucky once, wasn't I?" said Harry, pointing at his scar. "I might get lucky again."

Hermione's lip trembled, and she suddenly dashed at Harry and threw her arms around him.

" _Hermione!"_

"Harry - you are a great wizard, you know."

"I'm not as good as you," said Harry, very embarrassed, as she let go of him.

"Me!" said Hermione. "Books! And cleverness! There are more important things - friendship and bravery and - oh Harry - be _careful_!"

"You drink first," said Harry. "You are sure which is which, aren't you?"

"Positive," said Hermione. She took a long drink from the round bottle at the end, and shuddered.

"It's not poison?" said Harry anxiously.

"No - but it's like ice."

"Quick, go, before it wears off."

"Good luck - take care -"

"GO!"

Hermione turned and walked straight through the purple fire.

Harry took a deep breath and picked up the smallest bottle. He turned to face the black flames.

"Here I come," he said, and he drained the little bottle in one gulp.

It was indeed as though ice was flooding his body. He put the bottle down and walked forward; he braced himself, saw the black flames licking his body, but couldn't feel them - for a moment he could see nothing but dark fire - then he was on the other side, in the last chamber.

There was already someone there -


	20. Chapter 20 The Man With Two Faces

Chapter 20

The Man With Two Faces

It was Quirrell as expected.

Quirrell smiled. His face wasn't twitching at all, he was not longer in character.

"I wondered whether I'd be meeting you here, Potter."

Harry kept a calm expression. He wanted to draw this out, give Dumbledore time to get here. He played a card hoping it would work, he let a confused expression cross his face.

"But … Snape?"

"Severus?" Quirrell laughed, and it wasn't his usual quivering laugh, either but cold and sharp. "Yes, Severus does seem the type, doesn't he? So useful to have him swooping around like an overgrown bat. Next to him, who would suspect p-p-poor, st-stuttering P-Professor Quirrell?"

"But Snape tried to kill me!"

"No, no, no. I tried to kill you. Your friend Miss Granger knocked me over as she rushed to set fire to Snape at that Quidditch match. She broke my eye contact with you. Another few seconds and I'd have got you off that broom. I'd have managed before then if Snape hadn't been muttering a countercurse, trying to save you."

"Save me!"

"Of course," said Quirrell coolly. "Why do you think he wanted to referee your next match? He was trying to make sure I didn't do it again. Funny, really … he needn't have bothered. I couldn't do anything with Dumbledore watching. All the other teachers thought Snape was just trying to stop Gryffindor from winning, he did make himself unpopular … and what a waste of time, when after all that, I'm going to kill you tonight."

Quirrell snapped his fingers, Ropes sprang out of thin air and wrapped themselves tightly around Harry.

"You're too nosy to live, Potter. Scurrying around the school on Halloween like that, for all I knew you'd seen me coming to look at what was guarding the Stone."

" _You_ let that troll in?"

"Certainly. I have a special gift with trolls - you must have seen what I did to the one in the chamber back there? Unfortunately, while everyone else was running around looking for it, Snape, who already suspected me, went straight to the third floor to head me off - and not only did my troll fail to beat you to death, that three-headed dog didn't even manage to hurt Snape!"

"Now, wait quietly, Potter. I need to examine this interesting mirror."

It was only then that Harry realized what was standing behind Quirrell. It was the mirror of Erised.

"This mirror is the key to finding the Stone," Quirrell murmured, tapping his way around the frame. "Trust Dumbledore to come up with something like this...but he's in London…. I'll be far away by the time he gets back…."

All Harry could think of doing was to keep Quirrell talking and stop him from concentrating on the mirror.

"I saw you and Snape in the forest -" he blurted out.

"Yes," said Quirrell idly, walking around the mirror to look at the back. "He was on to me by that time, trying to find out how far I'd got. He suspected me all along. Tried to frighten me - as though he could, when I had Lord Voldemort on my side…."

Quirrell came back out from behind the mirror and started hungrily into it.

"I see the Stone...I'm presenting in to my master ... but where is it?"

Harry struggled against the ropes binding him, but they didn't give. He _had_ to keep Quirrell from giving his whole attention to the mirror.

"But Snape always seemed to hate me so much."

"Oh, he does," said Quirrell casually, "heavens, yes. He was at Hogwarts with your father, didn't you know? They loathed each other. But he never wanted you dead."

Harry felt like he had been punched in the gut, but he tried not to let it show. Snape hated his father? Why had he never told him that? He tried to understand how that could be. Was it because his father ended up winning the affection of his mother? He needed to know the answers to this, but now was not the time.

"But….I heard you… a few days ago, sobbing - I thought Snape was threatening you…"

For the first time, a spasm of fear flitted across Quirrell's face.

"Sometimes," he said. "I find it hard to follow my master's instructions - he is a great wizard and I am weak -"

"You mean he was there in the classroom with you?" Harry gasped, that meant he was in the castle.

"He is with me wherever I go," siad Quirrell quietly. "I met him when I traveled around the world. A foolish young man I was then, full of ridiculous ideas about good and evil. Lord Voldemort showed me how wrong I was. There is no good and evil, there is only power, and those too weak to see it…. Since then, I have served him faithfully, although I have let him down many times. He has had to be very hard on me." Quirrell shivered suddenly. "He does not forgive mistakes easily. When I failed to steal the stone from Gringotts, he was most displeased. He punished me...decided he would have to keep a closer watch on me…."

Quirrell's voice trailed away. Harry remembering his trip to Diagon Alley - he had been there that day.

Quirrell cursed under his breath.

"I don't understand...is the Stone inside the mirror? Should I break it?

Harry's mind was racing.

 _What I want more than anything else in the world at the moment,_ he thought _, is to find the Stone before Quirrell does. So if I look in the mirror, I should see myself finding it - which means I'll see where it's hidden! But how can I look without Quirrell realizing what I'm up to?_

He tried to edge to the left, to get in front of the glass without Quirrell noticing, but the ropes around his ankles were too tight: he tripped and fell over. Quirrell ignored him. He was still talking to himself.

"What does this mirror do? How does it work? Help me, Master!"

And to Harry's horror, a voice answered, and the voice seemed to come from Quirrell himself.

"Use the boy...Use the boy…"

Quirrell rounded on Harry.

"Yes - Potter- come here."

He clapped his hands once, and the ropes binding Harry fell off. Harry slowly got to his feet.

"Come here," Quirrell repeated. "Look in the mirror and tell me what you see."

Harry walked toward him.

 _I must lie,_ he thought desperately _. I must look and lie convincingly about what I see, that's all._

Quirrell moved close behind him. Harry breathed in the funny smell that seemed to come from Quirrell's turban. He closed his eyes, stepped in front of the mirror, and opened them again.

He saw his reflection, pale and scared-looking at first. But a moment later, the reflection smiled at him. It put it's hand into its pocket and pulled out a blood-red stone. It winked and put the stone back into its pocket - and as it did so, Harry felt something heavy drop into his real pocket. Somehow - incredibly - _he'd gotten the Stone._

"Well?" said Quirrell impatiently. "What do you see?"

Harry swallowed and remembered what he had seem at the Christmas Holiday.

"I see my parents, my mother and father, and my grandparents, and on back. Over a dozen in all, I see my family," he said sadly remembering the pain.

Quirrell cursed again.

"Get out of the way," he said. As Harry moved aside, he felt the Sorcerer's Stone against his leg. He knew he needed to get it out of here. He just knew that if he had the Stone Quirrell could take it from him, it need to be gone. Scared, he unleashed his magic and the Stone was gone.

"He lies...He lies.."

"Potter, come back here!" Quirrell shouted. "Tell me the truth! What did you see!"

The high voice spoke again.

"Let me speak to him...face-to-face…"

"Master, you are not strong enough!"

"I have strength enough … for this .…"

Harry felt as if the Devil's Snare was rooting him to the spot. He couldn't have a muscle. Somehow he must have known what Harry did. Petrified, he watched as Quirrell reached up and began to unwrap his turban. What was going on? The turban fell away. Quirrell's head looked strangely small without it. Then he turned slowly on the spot.

Harry would have screamed, but he couldn't make a sound. Where there should have been a back to Quirrell's head, there was a face, the most terrible face Harry had ever seen. It was chalk white with glaring red eyes and slits for nostrils, like a snake.

"Harry Potter…" it whispered.

Harry tried to take a step backward, but his legs wouldn't move.

"See what I have become?" the face said. "Mere shadow and vapor … I have form only when I can share another's body … but there have always been those willing to let me into their hearts and minds… Unicorn blood has strengthened mem these past weeks… you saw faithful Quirrell drinking it for me in the forest... and once I have the Elixir of Life, I will be able to create a body of my own … Now … why don't you give me that Stone in your pocket?"

So he knew he had gotten it. The feeling suddenly surged back into Harry's legs and he stumbled backward.

"Don't be a fool," snarled the face. "Better save your own life and join me… or you'll meet the same end as your parents … They died begging me for mercy …."

"LIAR!"

Quirrell was walking backward at him, so that Voldemort could still see him. The evil face was now smiling.

"How touching …" it hissed. "I always value bravery ….Yes, boy, your parents were brave….I killed your father first, and he put up a courageous fight...I've rarely dueled better...but your mother needn't have died….she was trying to protect you...Now give me the Stone, unless you want her to have died in vain."

"Never," Harry said as he stood and turned out his pockets, knowing that the Stone was no longer there.

"What have you done with the Stone, boy! SEIZE HIM!" and the next second, Harry felt Quirrell's hand close on his left wrist. At once, a needle-sharp pain seared across Harry's scar his head felt as though it was about to split in two; he yelled, struggling with all his might, and to his surprise, Quirrell let go of him. The bracelet was burning his arm as the pain in his head lessened - he looked around wildly to see where Quirrell had gone, and saw him hunched in pain, looking at his fingers - they were blistering before his eyes.

"Seize him! SEIZE HIM!" shrieked Voldemort again, and Quirrell lunged, knocking Harry clean off his feet, landing on top of him, both hands around Harry's neck - Harry's scar was almost blinding him with pain, his arm felt as if on fire, yet he could see Quirrell howling in agony.

"Master, I cannot hold him - my hands - my hands!"

And Quirrell, though pinning Harry to the ground with his knees, let go of his neck and stared, bewildered, at his own palms - Harry could see they looked burned, raw, red, and shiny.

"Then kill him, fool, and be done!" screeched Voldemort.

Quirrell raised his hand to perform a deadly curse, but Harry, by pure instinct, reached up and grabbed Quirrell's face -

"AAAARGH!"

Quirrell rolled off hom, his face blistering, too, and then Harry knew; Quirrell couldn't touch his bar skin, not without suffering terrible pain - his only chance was to keep hold of Quirrell, keep him in enough pain to stop him from doing a curse.

Harry jumped to his feet, caught Quirrell by the arm, and hung on as tight as he could. Quirrell screamed and tried to throw Harry off - the pain in Harry's head was building - he couldn't see - he could only hear Quirrell's terrible shrieks and Voldemort's yells of "KILL HIM! KILL HIM!" and other voices, maybe in Harry's own head, crying "Harry! Harry!"

He felt Quirrell's arm wrenched from his grasp, knew all was lost for him, and fell into blackness, down...down...down...

When next Harry returned to a form of consciousness it was only in his mindscape. He knew his body was there, but it felt like stone, immovable. He looked at his mindscape and saw the box which held the prickly magic lay in ruin; his own column greatly depleted. He looked up to see the magic dancing beautifully in the sky.

He vanished the box and built a new one, he was getting tired of always putting the magic back in, it needed a way to get it back into the box all on its own. Then it hit him…a vacuum! He created one and added it to the side of the box. Turned on the silent suction and watched as the vacuum pulled the magic from the air. Now if any where to escape, it would return without Harry having to do it himself. He felt tired, he sat and was asleep again.

When he found himself in his mindscape again, the prickly magic was all contained. It swirled deviously in the box, Harry was pleased, he turned the vacuum down to low. He created a similar system for the column and watched as it started to work. Why had this not occurred to him before, he fell asleep again watching the magic flow slowly into the column.

Finding himself again in his mindscape, he wondered how much time had passed. The column was now full and he could see no magic floating around in the air at all. This was a first. He fashioned a lid for the good magic column which could be opened or closed based on his need for the magic. He reasoned by leaving the vacuums running, on low, his magic should stay put, or at least quickly right itself. Time would tell, and he rested again.

When he returned again to his mindscape, everything was as he had left it. He sensed his body again, and it was there, but still too stiff to move. He reached out with his mind and he tried to see if he could 'feel' what was out there. After extending his 'spidey' senses as best he could, he knew he was in a room with other people. Snape was familiar, he thought another must be Dumbledore, as it was very powerful. He was guessing the third person was probably Madam Pomfrey. Then, the effort forced him to rest again.

The next thing he knew is that someone was calling his name, trying to wake him. His body, which he could now feel, felt horrible. It hurt and ached, and Harry did not want to wake up.

"Harry, I know you still need rest, but we have been unable to find the Stone. Do you know where it is?" said Dumbledore as he gently tried to shake him awake.

Harry slowly and with great effort managed to open his eyes, everything was blurry, he didn't have his glasses on. Dumbledore looked at him for an answer.

"Gone," Harry gasped out before unconsciousness took him again.

When he awoke again and opened his eyes it was dark. It must be night. He had a much easier time opening his eyes and breathing this time. His body still hurt and ached, but not nearly as bad. He turned his head and made out more with his spidey senses than his blurry vision that Snape was asleep in the arm chair at the side of his bed. He smiled at the thought, Harry must have worried him, he cared. He closed his eyes again.

Noise brought Harry around the next time. There seemed to someone moving around, Madam Pomfrey he realized. He opened his eyes to be assaulted by bright lights. Something was glinting above him. He blinked and saw the smiling face of Albus Dumbledore.

"Good afternoon, Harry," said Dumbledore.

Harry stared at him, then he remembered and sighed.

"What happened sir?" he asked softly. "Wait! Ron!" he remembered, trying to sit up.

"Calm yourself, dear boy, you are a little behind the times," said Dumbledore.

"Please!" said Harry.

"Harry, please relax, or Madam Pomfrey will have thrown out...again."

Harry looked around him as Dumbledore handed him his glasses and he put them on. He was in the hospital wing lying in a bed with white linen sheets, and next to him was a table piled high with what looked like half the candy shop.

"Tokens from your friends and admirers," said Dumbledore, beaming. "What happened down in the dungeons between you and Professor Quirrell is a complete secret, so, naturally, the whole school knows. I believe your friends Misters Fred and George Weasley were responsible for trying to send you a toilet seat. No doubt they thought it would amuse you. Madam Pomfrey, however, felt it might not be very hygienic, and confiscated it."

"Ron?" Harry asked again.

"Is fine, he stayed only a few hours. You however, have been here three days. Your three friends will be most relieved you have come around, they have been extremely worried. Now may I ask a question?"

Harry nodded.

"We have been able to piece together everything that happened from the others until you stepped into the last chamber with Quirrell. Can you tell me what happened when you meet him?"

Harry looked over to where Snape had been sitting. Then as if on cue, Snape walked into the room.

"Thank you for letting me know he was up," Snape said to Dumbledore and then looked at Harry.

"How are you feeling?" Snape asked.

"Better, still a bit sore and achy, thanks for staying with me," he said to Snape.

"He's hardly left your side," Dumbledore noted. "It was only after I promised to sit with you and let him know if you woke up, that I was able to convince him to return to his quarters this morning. Now the story if you please," Dumbledore prompted again.

Snape gave him a look, but sat down in his arm chair and motioned Harry to proceed.

"Quirrell couldn't figure out the mirror. He seemed to except, or hope that I'd show up. I tried to keep him talking to stall him. I played that I had thought it was Snape and not him. Made him explain things I already knew." This made him remember about what Quirrell had said about his father and he turned to look at Snape. "He said you hated my father when you were in school, is that true?"

Snape signed and leaned forward, resting his forearms on the bed and looking at Harry.

"I must say … yes," Snape confirmed and hung his head. Then lifted it and looked at Harry again. "There is much more to that story then there is time at the moment. I promised I will explain the folies of my youth to you this summer. Agreed?"

Harry nodded and continued, as he replayed the memory in his mind.

"I had him talking about Voldemort, about how he came to be in his service and how some of the things Voldemort asked where hard for him to do. That after failing to get the Stone from Gringotts, Voldemort decided to keep a closer eye on him." Harry shivered. "Voldemort was part of him, but that came later."

"Anyway, he finally asked Voldemort for help with the mirror. A voice, Voldemort's voice, said 'Use the boy' but it came from Quirrell, but not Quirrell."

Harry looked at Dumbledore who seemed to be nodding and understanding so he continued. "I knew what I wanted most at the moment was to find the Stone before Quirrell. So when he had me stand in front of the mirror I saw myself finding the Stone and putting it my pocket. But I lied to him and told him that I saw my family. He didn't like that, and pushed me aside. When I hit the ground I was so scared. I had the Stone from the Mirror as I had actually seen, but I wanted it gone... away from there... out of his reach, just gone. My magic was already going crazy and then, the Stone was... just gone... and that voice, Voldemort's voice, started screaming that I had lied."

Harry closed his eyes, calming himself, it was just a memory now.

"It told Quirrell," he swallowed, "to let him speak to me...face to face...Quirrell took off the turban. It was horrible," Harry closed his eyes and laid back, "there was this face coming out of the back of his head. It was all white, with horrible red eyes and just slits for nostrils. I was glued to were I was. I couldn't have moved if I wanted to. He knew who I was. He said for me to look at what he had become,"

"Oh, you'll like this , he said that he can only have form when he can share another's body. Says he can always find followers... about getting strength from drinking unicorn blood, he mentioned wanting to make the Elixir of Life. He wanted me to join him so my parents deaths would not be in vain. I said no. Then he wanted me to give him the Stone. Somehow he knew I had gotten it from the mirror. I could finally move again so I stood and turned out my pockets. The Stone was gone, he was mad. I tried to run."

Harry took a deep breath.

"Quirrell grabbed my wrist and my magic went crazy. My arm was burning, my head felt like it was going to split open. Then he just let go of me, his hands were burning. Voldemort told him to 'seize' me again. He did, and again the same thing happened. So Voldemort told him to kill me. The only thing I could think of is that he mustn't be allowed to curse me. So I grabbed him and held on for as long as I could. That's all I remember."

The two men were silent for a few minutes as they thought about what Harry had told them. Dumbledore spoke next.

"Harry, as soon as I reached London it became clear to me that the place I should be was the one I had just left. I arrived in time to pull Quirrell off you -"

"Was it you that I heard calling my name?

"Yes, and I feared I might be too late."

"You nearly were, he was too much for me."

"No, my boy, you - the effort involved nearly killed you. For one terrible moment there, I was afraid it had. As for the Stone, where did you send it?"

"Where?" said Harry, "well I have no idea, just gone."

"Hum, no matter I suppose. The owner has agreed the Stone should be destroyed."

"Destroyed?" said Harry blankly. "But your friend - Nicolas Flamel-"

"Oh, you know about Nicolas?" said Dumbledore, sounding quite delighted. "You _did_ do the thing properly, didn't you? Well, Nicolas and I have had a little chat, and agreed it's all for the best."

"But that means he and his wife will die, won't they?"

"They have enough Elixir stored to set their affairs in order and then, yes, they will die."

Dumbledore smiled at the look of amazement on Harry's face.

"To one as young as you, I'm sure it seems incredible, but to Nicolas and Perenelle, it really is like going to bed after a very, very long day. After all, to the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure. You know, the Stone was really not such a wonderful thing. As much money and life as you could want! The two things most human beings would choose above all - the rouble is, humans so have a knack for choosing precisely those things that are worst for them."

There was silence for a minute before Harry asked another question.

"Voldemort's going to try other ways for coming back, isn't he? I mean, he hasn't gone, has he?

"No, Harry, he has not. He is still out there somewhere, perhaps looking for another body to share...not truly alive, he can not be killed. He left Quirrell to die; he shows just as little mercy to his followers as his enemies. Nevertheless, Harry, while you may only have delayed his return yo power, it will merely take someone else who is prepared to fight what seems a losing battle next time - and if he delayed again, and again, why, he may never return to power."

Harry nodded, but stopped quickly, because it made his head hurt. "There are… things I want to the truth about…."

"Ah, the truth, do you remember what I told you before about truth?"

"Yes, that it is a beautiful and terrible thing, but I want to know."

"I will do my best, but I ask you to trust my judgement...again."

"Well… Voldemort said that he only killed my mother because she tried to stop him from killing me. But in all that I know, no one has had ever told me why he wanted to kill a baby? I mean I was risk to him. I know my parents were opposing him, but why me?

Dumbledore sighed very deeply this time.

"Alas, the first thing you ask me, I cannot tell you. -"

"He needs to know something," Snape said softly. "He deserves an explanation. We have seen what happens when we try to keep secrets from him. Maybe we should try honesty."

"Severus, he is too young," Dumbledore almost seemed to plead.

Snape leaned forward.

"Remember that piece of information I told you about," Snape said. "That I used to get into Voldemort's inner circle."

"Yes," Harry said though the inner circle was new info to Harry, but he went with it. "Well, that prophecy said there was someone who could destroy him. He believed that person to be you, so he set out to kill you."

"ME! How could I destroy him!" said Harry is disbelief.

Snape shrugged. "Who knows, and it doesn't really matter. That is what he believed and probably still does. He is going to act with that belief in mind."

"So what do I do?" Harry asked Snape.

"You live! You grow, you do all the things a normal kid would do."

"But, -"

"But nothing," Snape said emphatically. "You don't give into the fear, like I did, you fight it. You deny him that which he wants...you."

There was silence again and Dumbledore stepped back in.

"Your mother saved you, Harry. If there is one thing Voldemort cannot understand, it is love. He didn't realize that love as powerful as your mother's for you leaves its own mark. Not a scar, no visible sign...to have been loved so deeply, and given her magic and life so freely, will give you protection throughout your life. I've looked over your mother's notes and pondered them, she knew what she was doing. Her magic and love permeates your being. Quirrell, full of hatred, greed, and ambition, sharing his soul with Voldemort, could not touch you for this reason. It was agony to touch a person marked by something so good and pure."

Harry was crying and he didn't completely understand why. There was a moment of silence while he collected himself and then he offered the next question.

"And the invisibility cloak - do you know who sent it to me?"

"Ah- your father happened to leave it with me, and I thought you might like it.-"

"You have gave him that cloak! And without telling me!" Snape snapped at Dumbledore.

"I kept an eye on him," he said to Snape, then turned to Harry, "and I had an inkling he would be needing it." He said with a twinkle in his eye.

There was silence again and Harry could think of only one more question for Dumbledore.

"Sir, how did I get the Stone out of the mirror?"

"Ah, now, I'm glad you asked me that. It was one of my more brilliant ideas, and between you and me, that's saying something. You see, only one who wanted to _find_ the Stone - find it, but not _use_ it- would be able to get it, otherwise they'd just see themselves making gold or drinking Elixir of Life. My brain surprises even me sometimes….Now, enough questions. I suggest you make a start on these sweets. Ah! Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans! I was unfortunate enough in my youth to come across a vomit-flavored one, and since then I'm afraid I've rather lost my liking for them - but I think I'll be safe with a nice toffee, don't you?"

He smiled and popped the golden-brown bean into his mouth. Then he choked and said, "Alas! Ear wax!

Harry spent the rest of the day sleeping and relaxing. Sometimes when he awoke, Snape was there reading and other times he was gone.

Madam Pomfrey, the nurse, was a nice woman, but very strict.

"Just five minutes," Harry pleaded.

"Absolutely not."

"You let in Dumbledore…"

"Well, of course, he is the headmaster, quite different. You need _rest_!"

"I am resting, look, lying down and everything. Oh, let them in, please Madam Pomfrey…"

"Oh, very well," she finally relented. "But five minutes _only_."

And let Ron, Neville, and Hermione into the room to see him.

" _Harry_!"

Hermione looked ready to fling her arms around him again, but Harry was glad she held herself in as his head and body were still very sore.

"Oh, Harry, we were sure you were going to - Dumbledore was so worried-"

"The whole school's talking about it," said Ron.

"What happened in there?" Neville asked for the three of them.

It was one of those rare occasions when the true story is even more strange and exciting than the wild rumors. Harry told them everything; Querrill; the mirror; the Stone; and Voldemort. They were a very good audience; they gasped in all the right places, and when Harry told them what was under Quirrell's turban, Hermione screamed out loud, and Neville about lost his last meal.

"So the Stone's gone?" said Ron finally. "Flamel's just going to _die_?"

"That's what I said, but Dumbledore thinks that - what was it?- 'to the well-organized mind, death is but the next grand adventure.'"

"I always said he was off his rocker," said Ron, looking quite impressed at how crazy his hero was.

"So what happened to you guys?" asked Harry.

"Well, I got back all right," said Hermione. "Neville and I were able to get Ron to wake up - that took a while - and we were dashing up to the owlery to contact Dumbledore when we met him in the entrance hall - he already knew- he just said, 'Harry's gone after him, hasn't he?' and hurtled off to the third floor."

"Do you think he meant you to do it?" Neville asked.

"He did send you your father's cloak," added Ron.

" _Well_ ," Hermione exploded, "if he did - I mean to say - that's terrible - you could have been killed."

"No, it isn't," said Harry thoughtfully. "He's a funny man, Dumbledore. I think he sort of wanted to give me a chance. I think he knows more or less everything that goes on here, you know. I reckon he had a pretty good idea we were going to try, and instead of stopping us, he just taught us enough to help. I don't think it was an accident he let me find out how the mirror worked. It's almost like he thought I had the right to face Voldemort... if I could…."

"Yeah, Dumbledore's off his rocker, all right," said Ron proudly. "Listen, you've got to be up for the end-of-year feast to morrow. The points are all in and Gryffindor won - thanks to their new seeker - you - plus the food'll be good."

At that moment, Madam Pomfrey bustled over.

"You've had nearly fifteen minutes, now OUT," she said firmly.

After a few more potions and a good night's sleep, Harry felt almost normal again.

"I want to go to the feast," he told Madam Pomfrey as she straightened his many candy boxes. "I can, can't I?"

"Professor Dumbledore says you are to allowed to go," she said sniffly, as though in her opinion Professor Dumbledore did realize how risky feasts could be. "And you have another visitor."

"Oh, good," said Harry. "Who is it?"

Hagrid sailed through the door as he spoke. As usual when he was indoors, Hagrid looked too big to be allowed. He sat down next to Harry, took one look at him, and burst into tears.

"It's - all - my - ruddy - fault!" he sobbed, his face in his hands. "I told that evil git how ter get past Fluffy! I told him! It was the only thing he didn't know, an' I told him! Yeh, could've died! All fer a dragon egg! I'll never drink again! I should be chucked out an' made ter live as a Muggle!"

"Hagrid!" said Harry, shocked to see Hagrid shaking with grief and remorse, great tears leaking down into his beard. "Hagrid, he'd have found out somehow, this is Voldemort we're talking about, he'd have found out even if you hadn't told him."

"Yeh could've died!" sobbed Hagrid. "An' don' say the name!"

"VOLDEMORT!" Harry bellowed, and Hagrid looked so shocked, he stopped crying. "I've met him and I'm calling him by his name. Please cheer up, Hagrid, we saved the Stone, it's gone, he can't use it. Have a Chocolate Frog, I've got loads…."

Hagrid wiped his nose on the back of his hand and said, "that reminds me. I've got yeh a present."

"It's not a stoat sandwich, is it?" said Harry anxiously, and at last Hagrid give a weak chuckle.

"Nah. Dumbledore gave me the day off yesterday ter fix it. 'Course, he should have sacked me instead - anyway, got yeh this…"

It seemed to be a handsome, leather-covered book. Harry opened it curiously. It was full of wizarding photographs. Smiling and waving at him from every page were his mother and his father.

"Sent owls off ter all yer parents' old school friends, askin' fer photos...knew yeh didn't have any...d'yeh like it?

Harry couldn't speak, but Hagrid understood.

Harry made his way down to the end-of-year feast alone that night. As he walked the halls of Hogwarts he thought about how different his life was than a year ago. So many things were different, and he was glad for it. For the first time in his life he felt like he had a future. A future he would fight for if needs be. He also knew he had friends around him that would help and support him and adults who cared for him. He was confident he could make a life for himself here, a life he would enjoy.

Madam Pomfrey had held him up with one last check up, so the Great Hall was already full when he walked in. Even though Gryffindor had lost to Hufflepuff in the last Quidditch match without Harry, Gryffindor had enough point to beat out Slytherin for the house cup. The hall was decked out in scarlet and gold. There was huge banner showing the Gryffindor griffin covering the wall behind the High Table.

When Harry walked in there was a sudden hush, and then everyone started talking loudly at once. He quickly slipped into his seat between Ron and Hermione at the Gryffindor table and tried to ignore the fact that people were standing up to look at him.

Fortunately, Dumbledore stood a moment later, and the babble died away.

"Another year gone!" Dumbledore said cheerfully. "And I must trouble you with an old man's wheezing waffle before we sink our teeth into our delicious feast. What a year it has been! Hopefully your heads are all a little fuller than they were...you have the whole summer ahead to get them nice and empty before next year starts…

"Now, as I understand it, the house cup here needs awarding." A storm of cheering broke out at that, except for the Slytherin table. They were not the winners for the first time in seven years.

"Yes, yes, well done to all. It was very close, but I have a few last-minute points to dish out. Let me see. Yes…"

"First - to Mr. Ronald Weasley…"

Ron went purple in the face; he looked like a radish with a bad sunburn.

"...for the best-played game of chess Hogwarts has seen in many years, I award Gryffindor house fifty points."

Gryffindor cheers nearly raised the bewitched ceiling the stars overhead seemed to quiver. Percy could be heard telling the other prefects, "My brother, you know! My youngest brother! Got past McGonagall's giant chess set!"

At last there was silence again.

"Second - to Miss Hermione Granger ... for the use of cool logic in the face of fire, I award Gryffindor house fifty points."

Hermione buried her face in her arms; Harry strongly suspected she had burst into tears. Harry chanced a look up at Snape and behind his annoyed expression, deep in his eyes, Harry thought he saw pride. Gryffindors up and down the table were beside themselves.

"Third - to Mr. Neville Longbottom ... for bravery in jumping in first, not knowing the dangers ahead, and the calm wisdom to know when to hold still, I award Gryffindor house fifty points."

The din was deafening. They had barely managed to hang on to the lead, now they were running away with it. Dumbledore raised his hand. The room fell silent.

"And lastly, to Mr. Harry Potter," the room went deathly quiet. "...for pure nerve and outstanding courage in the face of seemingly insurmountable odds, I award him a Hogwarts Star of Service Award."

Someone standing outside the Great Hall night well have thought some sort of explosion had taken place, so loud was the noise which erupted from the Gryffindor table. Harry, Ron, Neville, and Hermione stood up and cheered along with everyone else. They were so grateful they were not going to be in trouble for breaking about every school rule there was, but this, this was beyond their expectations!

Harry was pushed up to the High Table and he and Professor McGonagall were soon standing in front of Professor Dumbledore. Dumbledore pinned a gold star on the front of Harry's robes and handed McGonagall the house cup. Hands were shaken all around and when Snape had to shake McGonagall's hand, it was with a horrible forced smile on his face.

It was one of the best evenings of Harry's life, better than winning at Quidditch, or Christmas, or knocking out the mountain trolls... he would never, ever forget tonight.

Harry had almost forgotten the exam results were still to come, but come they did. To their great joy, all three boys passed with wonderful marks. Hermione, of course, had the best grades for the first years. They had hoped that Goyle, who was almost as stupid as he was mean, might be thrown out, but he managed to pass, too. It was a shame, but as Ron said, you couldn't have everything in life.

And suddenly, their wardrobes were empty, their trunks packed, Neville's toad found lurking in a corner of the toilets; notes were handed out to all students, warning them not to use magic over the summer holidays ("I always hope they'll forget to give us these," said Fred Weasley sadly); Hagrid was there to take them down to the fleet of boats that sailed across the lake; they were boarding the Hogwarts Express; talking and laughing as the countryside became greener and tidier; eating Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans as they sped past Muggle towns; pulling off their wizard robes and putting on jackets and coats; pulling into platform nine and three-quarters at King's Cross Station.

It took quite a while for them all to get off the platform. A wizened old guard was up by the ticket barrier, letting them them go through the gate in twos and threes so they didn't attract attention by all bursting out of a solid wall at once and alarming the Muggles.

"You must come and stay this summer," said Ron, "all of you - I'll send you an owl."

"Thanks," said Harry. "I'll look forward to it."

"I hope Gran will let me," said Neville.

People jostled then as they moved toward the gateway, hanging back toward the end of the line. Some of them called:

"Bye, Harry!"

"See you, Potter!"

"Still famous," said Ron, grinning at him.

"Not where I am going, and it's nice," he said thinking of the comfortable home waiting for him with Snape and Franny.

Neville's Gran came and fetched him, they were going home another way. Owls were promised all around and Gran did not say no to visits. Waving merrily, he and Gran headed off. Harry, Ron, and Hermione passed through the gateway together.

"There is he, Mom, there he is, look!"

It was Ginny Weasley, Ron's younger sister, but she wasn't pointing at Ron.

"Harry Potter!" she squealed. "Look, Mom! I can see -"

"Be quite, Ginny, and it's rude to point."

Mrs. Weasley smiled down at them.

"Busy year?" she said.

"Very," said Harry. "Thanks for the fudge and the sweater, Mrs. Weasley."

"Oh, it was nothing, dear."

"Hermione, dear, there you are," Mrs. Granger said coming over and hugging her daughter.

Pleasantries and introductions were had all around. Letters were promised and visiting arrangements were to be worked out. Harry and Hermione waved good-bye as Molly and her crew wandered off into the distance. Harry said goodbye and with his trunk, shrunken small in his bag he turned to walk away.

"Harry," Hermione said worried.

"Where are you going?" she asked.

"Home, of course," said Harry.

"To where, and with whom?"

"With me," Snape said standing tossing his paper in the bin.

Hermione just stared, eyes big and mouth open. She finally recovered enough to close her mouth as her mom stepped forward with her hand.

"Dr. Ann Granger," she said as Snape took her hand.

"Professor Severus Snape," he said in return as Harry moved to stand by him.

"Oh, you must teach the kids then," she surmised.

"Yes," Snape affirmed. "And I must say your daughter is one of the most promising students I have seen."

Hermione mother beamed as Hermione blushed and looked at her shoes.

"We will be in touch about the visiting arrangements," Snape said as he turned.

Hermione's mother nodded as the two watched Harry and the professor melt into the crowd.


End file.
